To Tin Can, From Butchman
by RustyPaperclip
Summary: So... Chief Harkness was a tin can? Sure. Butch could live with that. Yeah. But giving the Chief a gift? Oh come on. What? What was wrong with him? ...And why was the Chief being so nice to him? COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own Fallout. Dammit._

_Note: Rated M for language...and possibly other things. *cough* yeah._

_Also, I want to warn about possible OOC-ness. I tried hard...really. But if doesn't sound like Butchie's talking to you, do tell me. And uh... I am having a writer's block. I hate whatever I've been writing so far. And if you hate/like it do review. Let me know. I appreciate constructive criticism._

_Anyway, onwards. Enjoy. Thanks for reading._

* * *

He's gonna blame this on Knoxxie. Sure. He's the best friend Butch ever had, better than that traitor shit Wally, but - Fuck that. It was totally the Nosebleed's fault. Like everything else. Yeah, man. Butch-man's gonna have his ass the next time he visited. Butch could live in Rivet City for the rest of his life without knowing that the Chief was a fucking tin can, but no. The fucker decided to haul him along when he told the Chief 'Yo, chief. You're a tin can.'

Okay, so, Knoxxie didn't say that. He was kind and nice and polite and all the psychological shit that Butch didn't have the care for. Knoxxie was a fucking hero. And well, he really was the best friend that Butch could ever ask for… Okay. What the fuck.

This was Knoxxie's fault. Period.

Cause everytime he saw the Chief now, he saw the robot. A robot. Sure. Chief was badass. He had seen the fucker take out a whole raider horde with his gun alone. (Butch-man could do it too.) Still, a robot. That was pranking material there. Trouble making material. And, there was a shitload of questions running in his mind. Like was it real poop? Or… synthetic? Since ya know…he's a robot. A voice in Butch's head that sounded very much like Knox said 'He's a fucking android, dumbass.' Fuck off, Knoxxie. What's the difference, eh? A robot didn't bleed. So what if Chief bled? It ain't real blood. It's syn-the-tic.

"Can you please be gentle Mister Barber?"

"Shut up Wilks. I ain't Knoxxie." Yeah. Take that, ya little punk. "Now, hold still." The kid shut up and sat still. C J and James talked quietly at the other corner of the room.

"DeLoria." Oh fuck. Tin Can entered the room. What bad fucking timing. The kids greeted him. It was like being in the Vault and you had to say 'good morning, overseer' or some shit like that. No way was he gonna greet the chief like that.

"What is it, Chief?"

"Is there trouble?"

"Sure. But I ain't the one makin it'." Yeah. Take that Tin Can. Chief continued to stare at him as he worked on Bryan's hair. After years of being under Vault surveillance, Butch could feel that same stare trained at him. Sure. Tin Can looked relaxed and fine, but that watchful eye was skimming just under the surface of his skin. He was looking for something. Tin Can had been like this since that little talk they had with Knoxxie and that was what? Three weeks ago. What the fuck did Tin Can want from him, dammit? This place was way out of his patrol route. If he didn't know better, Tin Can seemed to want to talk to him or something. FUCK. Was he in trouble? No. He hadn't done anything! Butch was already disappointing himself by being a goody-two-shoes like Knoxxie. Any more 'staying-in-line' and Butch was gonna have to change his name to Amata. Or something uncool. "What you want, Chief? A cut?" Yeah. Sure. Like hair grew on a tin can. He snorted at his own joke. Chief raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything until Bryan thanked Butch and the children left. The room was quiet with their calm breathing.

"When did you leave the vault?" Chief suddenly asked. Butch, who was actually about to doze off turned to see the small little smirk the Chief had on his face. Heck. Tin Can even had that face when he was taking a dump. What's wrong with him? Oh he's a robot. That's what. Android.

"Uh…I don't know." Butch noted the way Chief watched him. Yep. He knew that look. It was the one Dumbass Gomez always gave him when something happened in the Vault. Sure, he did cause a lot of trouble in the Vault. It wasn't all the time, though. This time, he didn't do shit. "Look man, I didn't do shit," he blurted. Chief stared him up and down then sighed before reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a rusty tin can. A yellowed scrap of paper was glued onto it and on it were the words 'From Butch-man' scrawled in red.

Fuck.

Sure he remembered making that 'gift' now. Like in this fucking moment when it was shoved into his face.

"Explain how I found this in my room," Chief said.

"I don't know, man. Did you step on it?"

"Actually it was on my cot. I meant: explain how it came to be in my room."

"Erm… Someone threw it? You made it yourself?" Butch played with the zipper on his tunnel snake jacket. "It's fuckin' ugly, ya know."

"Why would I make this and write your name on it?"

"Ummm… well…ya know… people do stupid things when they're drunk…"

"I don't get drunk." Butch met his steely gaze now and returned the hard stare wondering if Chief didn't drink alcohol or if he couldn't get drunk cause he was well, a tin can and all. "Were you drunk?" Yes. Dammit. Butch had been drunk alright. Butch coughed in response.

"Maybe."

"But still not drunk enough because you managed to enter my room." Oh. Fuck. He was very fucked. "Which makes me think, you either have the duplicate key to my room or you have picked the lock before. And I doubt Vera would let you near any of the keys."

"Sure."

"Why do you want to gain access in the first place?" Butch stared long and hard at the chief who wasn't taking his eyes off him. It was a good question. He didn't know the answer to it. "You didn't take anything. Only left me this."

"Shit, Chief. Why are ya so sure it's me anyway? Could've been Paulie."

"Was it Paulie?"

"No." Chief's smirk hardened. Butch felt the familiar thrill of annoying a person of authority. "What's the big deal, anyway?"

"You keep up this smart-ass attitude, and you're gonna wind up floating face-down in the river," Chief threatened. Butch knew enough to know that Wastelanders like the Chief meant that. He bared his fangs then faced the ceiling. "You intruded my room. And tampered wit-"

"I didn't tamper with none of your shit." Chief stared at him. Butch stared back. The smirk widened.

"So, you don't deny you were in my room." Butch raised an eyebrow and returned the smirk in what he knew was a 'challenging' look. "To give me a gift, no less."

"Yeah, yeah. What's it to you?" Tin Can suddenly stood up and put the 'gift' back into his pocket. He turned his smirk into a rare smile. Then he stepped out of the room.

"Did you remember leaving a note in the can?" Fuck. Butch saw him still smiling that same smile before he walked away, his heavy footsteps echoing down the hallway.

This was all Knoxxie's fault.


	2. Chapter 2

He was sneaking around…or whatever it was snakes did. Slithering around. He had to get that note Tin Can was talking about. Sure. He only remembered leaving it when Tin Can mentioned it. Fuck. What did he write on there? How could he do something so dumb? This was grade 'A' stupidity. Butch paused in his task to wonder if he had scored anything better than that in anything else. Footsteps echoed down the hall. He left the bobby pin in the hole and slid into the next room. Pressing his ear against the door, he heard footsteps pass the door, walk further down the hall then fade away. Yeah. Take that, sucker. He wasn't a tunnel snake for nothing. He picked the Chief's lock and quickly entered the room. Damn. This was too easy.

The first time he ever entered the room, he was with Knoxxie. And it was Knoxxie who had picked the fucking lock and even messed around with Tin Can's stuff. They both stole some ammo and some of the caps, other little shit. Hey. Tunnel Snakes rule. Then Knoxxie found the holotape…and it sounded fucking weird.

Look. Butch-man wasn't a doctor's son or a rocket scientist, so he didn't give a fuck. But NO. Knoxxie, all-time teacher's pet, had to do all his saintly crap and tried to find this 'poor android' who probably didn't want to be found. No. Butch didn't give a fuck if they caught the android or not. But when shit got too real and …the old man who lived in the broken bow told them, showed them who it was, Butch couldn't believe it. No fucking way was it the Chief. He was… too real. And then he thought…okay…maybe... it was possible. Cause Chief never showed much emotion and Chief was super accurate with his shots. Better than VATS. And Chief was built… like… a machine okay.

So, when Knoxxie left for Megaton, Butch stayed and spied on Tin Can. And fuck. Tin Can was kinda badass…for someone, who ya know, was a security guy. OR android. Yeah. That was what made him interesting. The fact that somewhere in that human-like body of his, there were wires and stuff. Man, it's creepy.

He saw the tin can gift on the desk and shivered. The words on the can made him wince. Yeah. He was drunk. It sucked to be sober. There was the folded piece of torn paper in the tin can. At first, Butch wanted to snatch the whole tin can, then thought better of it, cause well, it was a gift anyway. A dumb one. But Ma always told him to never take back what you gave as a gift. He didn't usually have that problem, cause he didn't usually give people anything. He just took what he wanted. But since this was a 'gift', he wasn't gonna take the can. What would he do with a tin can, anyway? He swiped the note and snuck out of the room. Yeah, take that Tin Can. Butchie's got into your room AGAIN. What kind of a security chief are ya? It was only till he was nursing a cold beer that he unfolded the note to see what he wrote.

..............

_TC_

_Is your poop real?_

_B_

..............

Butch groaned. Sure. He wasn't the smartest person in the fucking room. But even this was… beyond dumb. Then he noticed that there were a few lines of neat writing underneath his scrawl.

..............

_B_

_What does poop have to do with you entering my room?  
Also, if I see any of my possessions missing, I'll kick you into the river. Got that? _

_TC_

..............

Well…this was unexpected. Tin Can didn't even scold him for breaking into his room again. A slow, sneaky smile made its way to Butch's lips. Oh. This was good. This was very, very good.

In a few moments, he had scrawled a reply. The next few moments, he found himself shoving the note back into the tin can in Tin Can's room before leaving the room. Man, this shit was fun. Almost as fun as messing with the Overseer. No. Fuck that. This was better.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day, at the same time, Butch snuck into Tin Can's room again. Nah. He wasn't checking if Tin Can replied. He was just checking if the lock had been changed. Yeah and he expected to be caught… like he'd step on a tripwire and set off a trap or like Tin Can to… fucking jump out at him or something. But, no. There were no traps or anything. When he opened the door, he headed straight to the tin can to pluck out the folded note.

__

..............

_TC_

_Like does your poop stink and stuff? You know... coz real poop does. And I know who you are A3-..something. I was there when Knoxxie told ya. _

_I ain't touching your stuff, man._

_B_

..............

That was what he wrote. Brotch should be proud he actually wrote complete sentences for once. Just like before, there were a few lines of neat handwriting underneath that.

__

..............

_B_

_I know the exact position and location of everything, so you so much as lay a finger on anything, I'll know. Other than that, glad you are not interested in my 'stuff'._

_TC_

..............

That was the reply. Man, Tin Can was totally asking for it. Butch smiled as he made himself comfortable on the naval cot. It felt no different than the cot he owned in the backroom of the Muddy Rudder. Firm and close to uncomfortable. Vault beds were the best. Oh. Knoxxie's bed was kinda nice too. Tin Can was close to obsessively neat. There was some kinda order to his things. Order. The room was just begging to be messed with. He took a pencil from his pocket and scribbled a reply. When he put the note back into the tin can, he brushed a couple of scorched books on the table and shifted them just a teeny bit.

Y'know what? Whatever. He pushed one of the books onto the floor. Take that, book.

__

..............

_TC_

_Hey man, if you're gonna scold me for intruding, then fucking do it.  
I can take it. I'm a Tunnel Snake. _

_B_

..............

Take that, Tin Can.

He left the room sniggering and feeling victorious like he did when he managed to trip someone up. Man, he missed the Vault. That had been home till…well, till Knoxxie left and his own Ma betrayed him for the Overseer. How fucking gross was that? Anyway, he was in Rivet City now which kinda even felt like the Vault except that…it stank. Yeah. Sure. The Wastes stank. And the fucking sky creeped him out, so what.

Wait. What was he thinking about? Whatever.

Butch went back to work when he saw Seagrave gesturing to him for a haircut. One of these days, he's gonna stick antennae to the Helmet he wore.


	4. Chapter 4

_Note: Such shame. I was planning to use some strikethroughs on some of the notes, then realised FF didn't support them... wow... it actually was more important than I expected. Oh well. _

* * *

..............

_B _

_Don't touch my books.  
Tunnel Snakes? _

_TC_

_.............._

Shit. Tin Can was…a robot. No warnings or threats anymore? What? Androids were patient or something? And Tin Can still hadn't answered the poop question. Dammit, he really wanted to know. Why? Cause he wanted to know, okay. Like how the fuck could a robot poop real poop? And eat? Eat those damned mirelurk cakes from Gary and how did everything get processed in that body and somehow got turned to poop?

Better yet. How could he bleed? Or…perspire. Or sleep even. When he slept, did he shut down or something? Or recharge like Andy did? Butch was curious. And he was only curious cause he had this need to cause damage somehow. And somehow Tin Can was involved in this. It might be because he caught Tin Can weeping. Just once.

He had been sneaking around after hours and he spotted Tin Can sitting on the railing of the flight deck looking down. After years of searching for others' weaknesses to exploit, when he saw the Chief apparently crying, it struck him in a very strange way. Not cause he had never seen grown men cry. He saw Dumbass Gomez cry once. Stanley too. No. It was strange cause dammit - Chief was a tin can. So, how the fuck could he feel anything? How could something affect him and make him cry? How could a tin can_ feel_? Did he only _think_ he felt stuff? Or did Tin Can really feel things? In Butch's mind, everything about the Chief was synthetic now. All except for his gun handling skills. And yet, yet… He didn't feel like metal and wires, did he? He had blood and skin.

..............

_TC_

_Dammit, man. Answer the poop question. Or  
__Is your blood real? Does it taste like blood?  
Yeah. Tunnel Snakes for life!_

_B_

_.............._

_B_

_Are you a vampyre?_

_TC_

_.............._

_TC_

_Hey man, Knoxxie's the only bloodsucker. I drink whiskey. _

_B_

_.............._

Tin Can still hadn't scolded him for sneaking in. Or for lying down on the naval cot. So, this was fine. This was fun. And anyway, he rarely saw Tin Can. They never crossed paths or nothing. Never once came to him to beat him up. Sure. If Tin Can was gonna beat him, he'd fucking fight back. But, everytime he thought he heard Chief's footsteps he'd split. Trinnie's hair be damned. (Hey, she had that horrible hair for years. A couple of hours wouldn't change anything.) No. He wasn't avoiding Tin Can. He just didn't want to talk to him in person. And fuck. Maybe Tin Can wanted to cuff him and throw him off the ship or something. He wasn't gonna hang around and wait for that to happen. So, he hadn't seen Tin Can since this started. Whatever this was. Everyday, after that, without fail, Butch entered the room and replied to the messages.

_.............._

_B_

_I don't drink my own blood.  
Why are you asking me all these questions?  
Did you do something? What did you do?_

_TC_

_.............._

_Told ya. I didn't do shit. __  
__Are ya okay, man? Since you found out you're not human and stuff._

_B_

_.............._

_I'm fine, DeLoria.  
It's you I'm worried about. _

_TC_

_.............._

Worried, huh? That was fake. Tin Cans didn't feel. He stared at the last message for some time and lay down on the naval cot. There was a coat on it. It had holes in the sleeves, but was warm. He bunched it up and used it as a pillow. 6 pm. Guards changing their shifts now. Tin Can would be heading to the Marketplace.

Why was he doing this? Was he that lonely? To even want to talk to Tin Can who was a fucking security chief? Butch snorted. If Knoxxie could see him now - leaving messages to Tin Can like Susie Mack with a crush on Brotch. Did Tin Can feel lonely? The room sure felt lonely.

Could androids feel lonely? They could _feel_ worried.

Butch didn't get why he folded the paper and put it into his pocket. But…whatever. He wasn't gonna think about it, okay. There was one of those scorched books on the table. So he flipped one open to a page where there weren't much text and tore the page out. He scribbled a message on it.

He chucked the paper into the tin can and set it on the table before leaving. He didn't know why but his heart felt very heavy all of a sudden. He shrugged it off.

"Hey Brock-man. Are ya bored?"

"Don't tell me your problems."

"Wanna fist fight?"


	5. Chapter 5

_.............._

_TC_

_You sure you're fine? Coz I know how that feels. It's like that one time that shit Wally told my secrets to the Overseer. I got interrogated then sent to isolation coz I beat the little shit up after that. Broke both his legs. And his nose. Jerk was out for days. _

_B_

..............

_B_

_Who's the Overseer?  
You are one sick fuck, DeLoria. Must be a hell of a secret._

_TC_

..............

_The little shit deserved it. And the Overseer is this scrawny dude with a stick up his ass. Thinks he's in charge of the Vault. _

_Sounds a bit like that asshat at the clothes shop. _

_B_

_.............._

_B_

_Watch it. He's part of the council._

_TC_

..............

_TC_

_Hey man. He's boring.  
I swear. He's obsessed with the Helmet dude._

_B_

_.............._

_B_

_Seagrave Holmes?  
Today at the council meeting he complained about Seagrave. Again. _

_TC_

_.............._

_Told ya, man. Obsessed.  
He's got a crush on him or something._

_B_

_.............._

_B_

_Possible.  
Take care of that coat, DeLoria._

_TC_

_.............._

Seriously what was wrong with Tin Can? The fuck was wrong with him? Any other security guard would hunt him down, kick his ass and beat the shit out of him for less than a stolen coat. And here, he was in his own cot in the back room of the Muddy Rudder, holding the note in his hand, using the stolen coat as a pillow. Brock glared at him from across the room through one bruised eye as Butch nursed his bruised lip. Butch smirked. That's what ya get for messing with a Tunnel Snake, asshole. Belle was scolding the both of them about the fight through the doorway of the back room, but Butch wasn't listening. After years of getting earfuls, he really didn't give a fuck. Anyway, this fight was mutual. There ain't much for the bouncer to do and well, the barber was bored with staying in line all the damn time. He stood up.

"Butch –"

"Sorry for the broken stool, babe. The next style I give ya is on the house." He winked at the barkeep and smiled the charming smile which shut her up. She blushed. Worked every single time. On everyone. Except dudes. Some of them. Hmm… would it work on Tin Can? He trudged up to the middle deck, peered around the corner and made a dash to Tin Can's room. It took only a few seconds to pick the lock. Seriously, this damned android was like the dumbest robot ever. After the many times he entered the room, you'd think that Tin Can would change the locks. But no. Tin Can didn't. Sure. That was nice and all so he wouldn't have to learn how to pick a new lock. But damn. If this was his room, he'd rig the door with traps and set out some mines and fucking jump on everyone who opened the door.

"DeLoria, what are you-"

"Shit." Tin Can. What bad fucking timing.

"Is there trouble?" Tin Can looked…concerned. The fuck? Tin Can took a step forward.

"The fuck you doing here?" Butch blurted out. Tin Can frowned.

"This is my room." Oh yeah.

"Ain't it your shift?" Tin Can unstrapped his armor which looked kinda soaked. "What? You went swimming?"

"James Hargrave fell overboard." Tin Can pulled the armour off him and dropped it to the floor. Damn. He's… ripped. Tin Can was ripped. Like for an old dude…what was he? 30? He was in pretty good shape. Wait. Did androids age? He's got some old-looking scars across his back…looked like Deathclaws. Then some bullet wounds. Chief's got a nice tan too, but he always knew that.

"Here." Butch pushed the coat he brought with him at Chief. Why did he do that? No idea. Chief stared at it, then looked up at Butch. Hey. Tin Can's got pretty hazel eyes. Like Christine Kendall's. How did he not notice that ever? Shit. Tin Can's got everything, right? It's all constructed. His face. His hands. His muscles. His overall badassery. It's all fake. "I ain't in trouble."

"Really?" Chief took a step forward. Butch pressed the coat against the other's chest. Chief took it and placed the coat on his cot. There was the curious gaze on him. "You're bleeding." Oh yeah. He forgot. Butch licked the blood off his lip.

"That fucking bouncer," he growled. Sure. Butch-man challenged Brock but the dude didn't have to aim for the face, did he? Just cause he had Trinnie, he could fuck everyone else up? Oh, hell. Brock had hell to pay for that torn lip.

"You gotta stop causing fights in the Muddy Rudder." Sure, Chief. Whatever. Tin Can was so calm it bothered him.

"What? You got something on me or something?" Butch flopped down onto the cot uninvited. Tin Can eyed him. He stared back as he fingered the cut on his lip. Okay. What the fuck was he doing here? "Ain't ya gonna ask why I'm here?"

"Are you drunk again?"

"Maybe." This was weird. They were talking like they had been talking for years or something. He yawned. In front of him Chief pulled on armour, watching the barber as he strapped it on. Butch stared back. "Are ya gonna leave again?"

"I'm still on duty."

"Sure, man. Whatever."

"Really, DeLoria. Are you in trouble?" Chief stared down at him with the pretty eyes. Butch smirked.

"Shit, Chief. It's like you want trouble or something."

"Then why are you here?" Yeah. He still didn't know the answer to that. Oh yeah. He wanted to write a message. And, he actually didn't even want to return the coat. It was warm and Butch liked it. Shut up. He pulled the coat over his lap and hugged it.

"I don't fucking know."

"You can keep it for a while longer if you want," Chief said, gesturing to the coat. Tin Can smiled at him. Like a real, human-like smile. The kind that Doc James had: the friendly, warm one. Then Tin Can left the room. What? Butch-man's still in your room, Tin Can. What were you thinking leaving a snake in your room? Butch yawned again as he went to the tin can on the desk and wrote a reply. He stole a Stimpak. Then took the coat with him before leaving.

Tin Can was an android. He didn't need to feel warm or cold, so he sure as heck didn't need a damned coat. But the coat sure smelled like him. And he smelled human.


	6. Chapter 6

..............

_TC_

_Are you really an android? _

_B_

..............

_B_

_Am I really an android?  
You tell me, DeLoria. _

_TC_

..............

For the next couple of days, he watched Tin Can like a Guai hunting. The daily shifts. The lunch breaks. The guard briefing. Everything. Even eavesdropped his conversations with Rivet-ians. Tin Can didn't notice him. Reason: Tunnel Snake. And so, Chief went around being all chiefly and shit and poked his rifle into people's business with that smirky calm face he had. It was like stalking Wally's dad so that they could plan an escape. Cept, Chief was a finer sight than that asshole. The more he watched, the more he wondered what the fuck was the difference between Tin Can and a human. Cause he couldn't tell now. Cause Tin Can…seemed to be nicer than a lot of humans. Shit. He wanted to gut him. He wanted to see the wires. He wanted to see metal underneath 'skin'. Cause now, how was Chief an android, huh?

_.............._

_TC_

_I ain't one. Ain't a scientist, either.  
You pull out some of your wires then I'll say you're an android._

_B_

..............

_B_

_I'm not gonna do magic tricks for you._

_TC_

_.............._

_TC_

_Back in the Vault, our Mr Gutsy did some tricks for a party one time.  
Man, he sucks. _

_B_

_.............._

_B_

_Do you miss the vault?_

_TC_

..............

Did he?

In the vault, he knew for sure who were the jackasses, the asshats, the goody goodies and the wired tin cans. Now, even Tin Can wasn't like a tin can.

"Butchie, is something bothering you?" Vera's sweet voice called to him.

"Nothing, babe. Just taken by your beauty, y'know." He deepened his voice for good measure. What the hell was wrong with him? Here was one hell of a babe, letting him touch her and he was thinking of tin cans that didn't feel. Shit. Gotta talk to Preston. Or Ted and his Jet. Dammit. Knoxxie had told him to stay off the chems cause they fucked him up one time. (Three times, actually.) When Knoxxie showed him the damage, he beat the fucker up so bad for being stupid.

Not that he cared.

Just that…out of the Vault…there were so few people to hang around with. Everyone's packing. Everyone's got a loaded gun in their fucking hands all the damn time. Even Knoxxie. Made him edgy. Creeped him out. Sure. In the Vault, Butch-man's got a reign of terror and destruction and badassery. Outside, it was like he had been baking sweetrolls all his life or something. All those fucking raiders….they were messed up. You'd think Andy sawing off a whole leg for a sprained toe was bad enough. The raiders, the sick fucks. They fucking pulled out every toenail, then every toe before sawing off the damned leg while the guy was still alive. Man… Bad is one thing…Evil is another. And all they needed was one bullet to the head.

"Heard any gossip, Butchie?" Vera asked, smiling at him that sweet, sweet smile girls liked to do when they wanted something from dudes. Like Susie when she wanted better grades. "I heard about the fights in the Muddy Rudder. Was that you?"

"Me? These are the hands of a lover, dollface." Turn on the charm, man. He smiled the snake smile. The one he practised in front of the mirror for days. "I can prove it to you sometime." She blushed. Oh. She wanted him. They all wanted him. He winked at her before continuing to work on her hair.

Did Tin Can want anything ever?

..............

_TC_

_I miss sweetrolls.  
But don't you fucking dare tell anyone. _

_B_

..............


	7. Chapter 7

_Note: A new chapter is out. Okay, I don't really know if anyone's following it, but I think I am going to continue this? I don't know if it's a good idea even to continue... I don't know if Butch is way too obnoxious and stuff. Sometimes, when I read this aloud, he does sound obnoxious...but that's just him, right? So, erm...a new chapter is up. Sorry it's slow-paced. I have a tendency to drag out relationships and conversations. And stories... If this completely bores you to pieces, do tell. Opinions and crits are welcomed with arms wide open. _

* * *

Today, he caught Tin Can flirting with Vera. Hmph. Sure. Everyone flirted with Vera. But they didn't have a chance. Ah, fuck it… they did. Cause…see. Vera had the hots for Helmet Holmes. How weird was that? It was like Paul liking Freddie or something.

No. He wasn't kidding. Paulie, his own snake brother, had the hots for Freddie Gomez the psychotic nutcase. Butch had been doing the slithering thing afterhours again and caught them…caught Paulie with Freddie in the locked up diner, writhing around each other. Shit. All those years and he had never guessed Paulie…and Freddie. (Betcha Wally didn't know... Fuck you, Wally.) Damn…but it was the most passionate thing he ever saw and Paulie was… gentle. (Hey man, if ya ever saw Paulie bust someone, you'd be surprised too.) And Freddie actually looked sane...no crazy eyes…no crazy muttering…just soft sighs and moans. Was fucking weird…but good weird… He was…They were…happy. When their noises faded and they fell asleep, Butch left a tunnel snake jacket beside Freddie. If this nutcase was gonna make his brother happy, then he earned his place with the tunnel snakes.

Shut up. Butch-man's got a heart okay. A fucking big one.

Anyway, today, Tin Can flirted with Vera. Butch was finishing up his work on Ted's mop at Gary's galley and Vera was chatting with Helmet when Tin Can came around with his guards. He said 'You look as lovely as ever, Vera.' Vera smiled the pretty smile back at him while Helmet Holmes glowered. Ha. Take that, Helmet.

Still…Butch didn't get why he felt like breaking stuff all of a sudden.

He went to Brock and Brock went all threatening shit on him like he was super badass…but Belle was there and so he winked at Belle AND Trinnie, and left the bar. Heck. He even left Rivet City to sit on the railing of the bridge and carve marks into the metal with his toothpick. Shit. The water was a long way down, but he ain't gonna look up. The thing up there creeped him out. Y'know. The sky.

"Isn't this a surprise?" Tin Can. No. Butch wasn't surprised. He heard Tin Can's footsteps as soon as they stepped onto the bridge. He glanced at Tin Can who leaned against the railing next to him with that damned smirky calm face and the pretty eyes. "Was beginning to think you're a vamp…what with all the deal about my blood and never leaving the ship."

"Shit, man. Are ya stalking me or something?"

"No. But you are. Stalking me, that is." Fuck. Tin Can knew. He scratched one mark on the metal deeper than the others.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't flatter yourself." They stayed silent for a while before Butch got uncomfortable. What the fuck did Tin Can want from him? "Hey, man. Aren't you on duty? In the marketplace?" Yeah. What kind of a security chief are ya, Tin Can? Seriously. Jamie coulda swiped 10mms for him easily when Tin Can's not there. Not that he cared. Those 10mms were useful.

"Thought I'd step out for a breather. Check on a couple of civilians."

"I didn't do shit." But he did, didn't he? He broke into Tin Can's room everyday…sometimes, twice a day. "I didn't do shit," he repeated with more force, daring Tin Can to challenge him. Tin Can smiled. It was the Doc James smile. The kind and warm one. Butch wanted to wipe that smile off his face. For a tin can, Chief sure had a number of expressions. "You like Vera or something?" Everyone did. "She likes Helmet, y'know."

"You forget that I'm a security chief."

"So?"

"So I know everything that goes on in the ship." Butch wiped the blade in his hands onto his pants, still holding that gaze. Flakes of rust stained his pants.

"Yeah?" Butch smirked and pulled his collar up, daring a glance at the offending sky. Could tin cans like people? "What about you, Chief? You have the hots for Vera too?" Everyone fucking did.

"She's sweet isn't she?"

"Yeah. She's a babe, alright."

"Do you like her?"

"Sure. But I ain't gonna get into any of that mess."

"What mess?"

"Y'know. Relationships and all that shit." Chief parted his lips to say something but closed them immediately. Butch kept the blade in his pocket, watching the shift of 'emotions' on Chief's face. Sure. This was what he was good for – seeing the effects of his words on faces. He memorised the short sad smile, the glazed look in the pretty eyes, and the slight hurt in them that was familiar. Butch had caused that look on some faces before so he knew… Butch smirked. Sure. But Tin Can was an android. Wasn't this strange? Already Tin Can had revealed 'emotions' no one in the Vault would ever dream about revealing to him. And yet, this tin can gave it away so easily. Like it was nothing. Sure. Butch didn't exactly give a damn before Chief was wired but now, all he could see was the…human. Which was fucking weird. Then Chief had to pretty eye him and the smirk fell.

"I wanted to say something about my wife. Then I remembered I never had one and these aren't my memories."

Oh.

For some time, they shared the silence. He continued watching Chief and Chief stared at him in return. The surveillance gaze was there but softer somehow. They stayed like that until Bannon called for Chief and Chief left with a slight nod and a warm smile. Butch made his way to Tin Can's room, tipped the contents of the tin can onto the table and opened the note.

..............

_B_

_Sweetrolls?  
I don't miss anything. _

_TC_

..............

That's cause Tin Can's a tin can. And yeah…well…his memories weren't his, were they?

Fuck. What was he doing? Nah. Butchie wasn't a sensitive bastard. Not an evil one either. He's just a Tunnel Snake okay. He folded the note and put it into the same pocket where the blade was. Then with a smirk, he tore out another page from the scorched book and wrote to Tin Can.

..............

_I can give ya something to miss. _

_B_

..............

And maybe some new memories, Tin Can.


	8. Chapter 8

Sister was a dumbass. Just cause Butch was a Vault kid the dude thought Butch was gonna take his bullshit. When Sister said something along the lines of 'wrap your lips around this', Butch smashed a fist into his jaw and smiled at the blood he saw on the fist. Take that, dumbass. He loved this. In the split second he smiled, Shrapnel, the self-centered fuck had launched himself on him (because Sister crashed into Shrapnel and he dropped the beer on his clothes…Whatever. It wasn't his fault. Ya gotta finish the drink quick so ya wouldn't spill it, y'know. Fucking lightweights. ). Then the shit started for real. And yeah. Butch-man still had it. And Butch-man's gonna bust everyone up. And Butch-man was happy, okay. It felt great to wreck things and break noses. Even Brock joined in the fun. Well, cause he's a bouncer and shit. But whatever. Brock enjoyed beat downs no matter what the fucker said. Anyway, it was his broad back that's against Butch's… kinda like the way he and Knoxxie fought when they were ambushed. Damn but Sister had a strong right jab. It crashed against the side of his face and he stumbled over the pool table. Somewhere behind him, Brock was laying onto Sister and Belle was screaming yet the fuck again. Okay, how did this happen? Someone jumped on him. He landed face down on the pool table before twisting back up with a grunt.

"Why the fuck you always aim for the face?" he growled before grabbing Shrapnel and kneeing him in his stomach. "Don't fucking aim for my face!" Shrap crumpled to the ground groaning something that sounded like a long string of vulgarities. Ha. Take that, you fucking jackass. Long fingers suddenly grabbed his tunnel snake hair and wrenched his head back.

"What's the matter, boy? Scared your boyfriend won't want you anymore?" Sister shoved him into the wall and he hit his cheekbone on it. The jackass laughed behind him. Like fluid, Butch struggled out of the grip and smashed Sister across the jaw again, earning a pained yell.

"How ya like me now, bitch?" he panted. Shrap grasped at his ankle and he dropped to the floor, nose-first this time. Shit. His face was getting fucked up. He saw Brock curl his hands around Shrap and then there was a gunshot. Everyone froze.

"Don't make me shoot you." Well… Tin Can had great timing. Butchie had bad fucking timing. "Any of you." Tin Can and two of his guards came around them.

"I didn't do shit," Butch spat out of reflex.

"Shut up, 101. You got us into this mess in the first place," Shrap hissed.

"Hey, man. You ain't got proof."

"One more word and I'll gut ya –"

"You're asking for it, pal–"

"Don't start again, DeLoria," Brock warned with his no nonsense tone. Butch shut up. Brock pulled the Tunnel Snake up and glared at him...And the mess they had caused. What? It wasn't just him who's in trouble.

"DeLoria." Fuck. Tin Can didn't sound happy to see him.

"What is it, Chief?" He tried to sound happy to see Tin Can. Tin Can didn't seem bothered.

"This is the third fight you're involved in within 2 weeks."

"So? Brock's involved in them too."

"Brock is the bouncer."

"Yeah? So I'm helping him out." Brock scoffed. Butch fingered his bloodstain on the pool table. Tin Can sighed. "What? I ain't the only one fighting."

In the end, Brock told Tin Can everything. Look. Butchie might be wrong but… Brock was kinda tired…not like physically tired…just tired, y'know. (Brock usually got the hang of things down here and Tin Can wouldn't have to come to settle fights.)Was it Butch-man that he's tired of? No. Fuck that. It was Trinnie, okay. That woman jumped him every single minute he's awake, oh when he's sleeping too. Yeah. That bitch with the godawful hair. It's her fault Brockie's tired.

Sigh. Why did everyone hate him? Whatever. He didn't care alright. It was the whiskey. Always the whiskey.

Tin Can talked to Brock, Sister and Shrapnel and maybe Butch but he wasn't listening. He didn't like Security Chief Tin Can so much. He wanted to trip him or something. Or steal all his Rivet City armor so he had no choice but wear better clothes. Or none. Which wasn't so bad. Cause he's better when he's just being Chief Tin Can...like when they were chilling on the bridge. Tin Can hauled him out of the Muddy Rudder and made him follow. Seriously. Why was Butch following him around like Dogmeat? He licked the cut on his lips, watching Tin Can walk in front of him. Tin Can totally trusted him didn't he? Oh wait. He didn't. That's why he was being 'escorted'.

"What you want, Chief?" Butch asked.

"We need to talk."

"Yeah? I already know you're a tin ca-… uh… an android."

"That's not it."

"Come on, man. Spit it out."

"Explain to me something."

"Hey, man. I'm a barber. Not a doctor. Go talk to Preston."

"Preston isn't writing me notes."

"Preston's got shit handwriting, anyway," Butch snickered. Chief ignored him and continued walking. What did he wanna talk about anyway? Look. Butch didn't do anything. Anyway, Tin Can didn't have proof. Tin Can had a nice back, though. Somewhere underneath that armor were the old Deathclaw scars. Sure. Butch saw them only once, but he knew the exact place they started and ended. How did Chief get those?

They stopped in front of Tin Can's room and entered. Butch saw a guard patrolling the area. The guard stared at him with hostility and Butch smirked in return, daring the fucker to take a swing. He imprinted that face in his mind. Dude had a large nose.

Butch invited himself to sit on the cot. Tin Can took a seat on the chair in front of the desk and pretty eyed him kinda not happily. Well, fuck. What'd he expect? Had anybody ever been happy to see Butch DeLoria? Oh. Fuck whiskey. Shut up. Dogmeat was happy to see him okay. Maybe Knoxxie too. Sometimes. And some other people who were only happy to see him behind the thick glass of the isolation cell. Like Security Chief Hannon or Fucking Wally's Dad or the Overseer.

Tin Can handed him a Stimpak. Butch took it and pierced it into his arm. Tin Can pulled out a slip of paper from his pocket and held it out to Butch.

..............

_I can give ya something to miss._

_B_

..............

Yeah? So he wrote that. What's the big deal? Butch stared at Tin Can. Tin Can watched him with that creepy surveillance gaze.

"Is that a threat?"

What?

How the hell di- Trust a security chief to think every little thing was a fucking threat.

"What the fuck, Chief?" Actually…it kinda sounded like a threat. But… when he wrote that, he was kinda turning on the charm, alright. Tunnel Snake charm. Damn. Tin Can was really a tin can, wasn't he?

"You wouldn't try anything stupid like try to slit my throat when I'm sleeping now would you?" Chief asked.

"What are ya? Paranoid or something?" Butch huffed. Chief glared. Well, that explained why he seemed tenser. "No. Dammit." Tin Can stood up and leaned against his desk.

"Is this your plan? All the fights? Isn't that why you've been causing fights? Make everyone miss the safety of Rivet City?"

"Look, man. I don't know where you get that idea from." Yeah. Cause Butch was never much of a planner kind of person. Paul and Wally were. Knoxxie too, sometimes. But the Butch-man's best work were when he just rushed in, knocked somebody out with a chair and stole whatever shit in the room. And nobody had proof okay. "I mean, it ain't a threat."

"Then what exactly do you mean by that?" Tin Can glowered.

"You never had people flirt with ya before?" Chief froze. Butch smirked. Aww…wasn't this a surprise? Tin Can didn't know what flirting was. Reason: Tin Can, man. TIN CAN. Butchie had it all figured out. Tin Can didn't move for five minutes. Butch knew cause he checked his pip-boy. He thought he saw a faint blush on Tin Can's cheeks before he caught himself – Tin cans couldn't blush, could they? After a long silence, Tin Can stood up. He wrote something on the piece of paper before placing it into the tin can.

"Stay out of trouble, DeLoria." Then he was gone. Leaving Butch in his room, yet again. What the hell was up with him? Was he pissed off or something? Could tin cans have mood swings? Butch went to the desk. His body was aching. He reached for the folded note.

..............

_B_

_What am I supposed to miss?  
My coat? You can keep it. It looks better on you._

_TC_

..............

Butch grinned. Maybe Tin Can wasn't so hopeless after all. He was totally asking for it, though.

..............

_TC_

_Oooh, Chief. Have ya been checking me out?  
I like that. _

_B_

..............

If this kept up, Butch wouldn't have to turn off the Tunnel Snake charm. Ever.


	9. Chapter 9

_Note: Thank you for the lovely reviews. Onwards._

* * *

So. Belle was worried about him. Which was kinda fucked up… Brock too. Which was kinda worse than fucked up. Look. Butch was a man. Butch could do whatever he damn well wanted to (and get away with it.) He could take care of himself, okay. What? He ain't a kid. So what if Sister was giving him dirty looks? Butch-man could take him, bust him up and hang him by his balls from the flight deck.

"101, it's not his balls Belle's worried about." Yeah? "It's yours." Oh. Shrap and Flak, for once, were explaining things to him properly. Shrap and he had a truce of some sort and now Butch was cutting his hair. (He was an awesome barber, alright.) All three of them were at the marketplace and chilling, sharing a bottle of vodka between them. At the other end, where Gary's Galley was, Tin Can was briefing his guards about something…river water or some shit like that. Butch ain't listening to crap, okay. And he wasn't checking Tin Can out.

"Hey man," Butch said, noting the way Lana Danvers stared at Tin Can like she was hungry. Butch took a long swig of the bottle. "My balls are the least of her problems."

"You're right. Your mouth's the bigger problem." Flak sniggered at his own joke. Shrap guffawed. As he snatched the bottle from Butch's grasp, he grinned like he just figured something out. "You like Danvers, don't you?

"Sure." Who wouldn't like a woman in tight armour and tight pants like that? Tin Can had an eyeful everyday, didn't he? "Don't ya?"

"She's loud," Shrap said. Butch chuckled. Yeah. Lana was loud. Just like Amata. Such a fucking loudmouth. She had a voice that'd beat the constant alarms they had in the Vault. "I'd hit on that if she wasn't security."

"Don't you love a challenge?" Flak asked Shrap. Shrap just shrugged. Butch could figure this out easy. Reason: Shrap hit on Lana once and she bashed him up. He chuckled before snipping off a lock of hair. After he was done, he lounged on their couch, just watching everyone go about their business. Would Knoxxie ever visit him? Not that he missed his snake brother…just …he was kinda confused right now and Knoxxie was probably the only dude out here who knew him well enough to understand.

See. Two days ago, he snuck into Tin Can's room while Tin Can was 'sleeping'. (Don't ask him. He didn't know why he was there at 2 in the fucking morning, okay.) He just slinked around quietly, not about to wake Tin Can up when a hand closed around his arm and…he jumped. Look. Butch was used to slinking around in the Vault. Usually the only people who would grab him after hours were the ones who wanted to scar his pretty face. So, when something grabbed him in the dark, he wasn't gonna just take it. He's gonna fight, dammit. He pulled back a fist and before he could smash it into a face, he was flipped over, landing like a stupid Lurk hit too many times in its face. Oh…it's on. It's SO on. With his free hand, he grabbed an ankle and his attacker fell over him as Butch twisted away. Take that, sucker. Butch felt for something …the baton that was kept hidden under the cot. He wrenched it out and was about to hit when he felt the click of a gun right under his chin. Fuck.

"Butch?" Tin Can's voice came at him. Damn, but his sleepy voice was kinda sexy in the dark. Saying his name too. "Is there…a problem?" And Tin Can's asking if there was a problem. Shit. Like hell there was a problem. Butch-man's in your fucking room at 2 in the morning.

"Damn, man." Why do you trust Butch-man so much? "Don't ya ever relax or something?"

"This is enough reason not to relax." Good point. "What are you doing here?"

"I ain't gonna slit your throat." Tin Can pulled the gun away from Butch's chin. Tin Can was truly badass. More badass than him. (Not that he'd admit aloud.) It wasn't often anyone got a step ahead of the Butch-man without being tipped off by scum like Wally. Even if it was robot or whatever, this was badass. Then Tin Can reached over and pried the baton out of his grasp. Those fingers…were human. Ain't a tin can's. And Tin Can smelled…good. Shit. Butch froze for like… three seconds (cause…well, Butch was badass too, okay) before he moved away from the closeness. He did, however, offer to pull Tin Can up, just to feel him again. Shit. Really...those were human hands. They're rough and firm and calloused. Y'know. Normal. Like his own hands. He watched Tin Can put on a shirt and switch on the lights. Butch squinted from the sudden brightness.

"Explain."

"I told ya –"

"Yes. You 'ain't a doctor'." Tin Can sucked in his lower lip. "Is there a problem?"

"This question again?"

"You didn't answer it."

"Yeah…uh…I can't sleep?" Okay. So, that was the truth. He had never been much of a sleeper. In the Vault, the best work was done in the dark after curfew. The best escapes were the same. The daytime was for everything else. The plans, the spying, the training, maybe a couple hours of shut-eye. Butch was used to staying alert most hours of the day. He rarely felt fatigue, unless he had been fighting continuously or something. Oh and…after he had been drinking.

"So, you decided to come here?" Tin Can eyed him as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You Vault kids don't make sense."

"Yeah? Well, you don't either, ti- Chief." Butch walked to the tin can gift to pick up the note. Tin Can stopped him.

"Don't –"

"Why the fuck not?"

"Not while I'm here." There. That very, very faint blush was there. Butch stilled. Shit. Tin Can was actually fretting about the note. It just made him want to read it all the more. Tin Can finally lifted his eyes to smile. "Tell you what DeLoria. Have a drink with me."

And then shit hit the fucking fan.

…

Okay so it didn't. And it was just purified water they were drinking while Butch carved more marks into the metal of the railing. And they weren't even talking much… just chilling, listening to the wind or whatever. For some reason, Butch wasn't really bothered by it. He was calm and warm all over. It kinda felt like he was on a date or something. (The last time he was on a date, he was sixteen and it was with Christine. He did it just to rile Wally up…When Christine found out, man, was she pissed off.) When it got light enough and Tin Can was an hour away from his shift, they walked back to Tin Can's room, where Butch snatched up the note. Tin Can made about to protest but Butch pulled him close to whisper 'Thanks for the date, Chief' hotly into his ear before 'escaping'. The look on Tin Can's face was worth it. Butch returned to the Muddy Rudder feeling triumphant all over again.

Today, though, Butch pulled out the note from his pocket. He still hadn't written a reply.

..............

_B_

_You're the one stalking me.  
Have you been checking me out?_

_TC_

..............

See. He was confused cause Tin Can was right. (Not that he would ever fucking admit it.) Thing was…he had been stalking Tin Can AND he had been checking Tin Can out. Sure. It's cause he wanted to know if Tin Can was more human than android. Yeah. But…seriously, what would it matter? It wouldn't matter. He knew. But why the fuck did he _feel_ like it mattered?

Fuck. Shit really hit the fucking fan, this time.

He picked up the pen lying on Flak's footlocker beside him to scribble a reply. Somehow he found himself in Tin Can's room, in front of the tin can, placing the note into it.

..............

_TC_

_Yeah I check ya out.  
You got a problem with that?_

_B_

..............

Y'know what. Flak and Shrap were right. Both his mouth and his balls…they were the problem.


	10. Chapter 10

It seemed like Tin Can was avoiding him now. Not that he knew. Cause Butch was hiding in the unoccupied hotel room all day, prowling only in the night when Chief wasn't on duty. Picking the lock of the room was a great idea. No one suspected a thing. Nobody checked the room. Sure. Someone would find out soon. Probably Vera's tin can, Buckingham. But whatever. He knew how to off these suckers okay. Every tin can came with a switch. Yeah. Even Tin Can. He shuddered at the thought of a lifeless Chief, flopping around like an idiot.

He had been here for five days. Why? Cause he felt…claust…claustroform…constricted, okay. Like Rivet City had ten-fucking-thousand guards or something. And Sister was being a pain in the ass. Chief was also being a pain by smiling at him and yeah, okay, that was…nice. But Butch-man didn't need 'nice'. He's a fucking tunnel snake. Plus... it was just…strange…to see Tin Can 'smiling' like he 'felt' things for Butch…like he 'liked' Butch or something… Butch didn't need this 'tin can fake'ness.

Whatever. Cause Tunnel Snakes and Security weren't meant to get along.

Anyway, it was the most rest Butch had since… whenever. The room had a great bed and a place for his scotch. Maybe by now, Trinnie's hair had mutated into something workable. Sure. Butch was a fucking artist but he couldn't change a centaur into Dogmeat, okay. Belle must be worried again. Not that he gave a damn. The woman worried cause she was his fucking landlady or something. They all drank together. They all slept in the back room of the Muddy Rudder together. It was like a fucking party. Bars, booze and Butch: they all mixed well… like cocktail. Yeah. Butch just didn't wanna think about his ma. Belle Bonny always made him think about her. Brock made him think about his snake brothers. Trinnie made him think about Freddie Gomez for some reason… it's probably the psychotic nutcase-ness that she had. What the fuck did Brock see in her? All Butch saw was her godawful hair.

Anyway, he wasn't avoiding Tin Can. So he wasn't checking Tin Can out. Tin Can's coat was here with him though. Butch didn't bring much with him outside the Vault. Just a 10mm, his toothpick and Tunnel Snake goodness. By good, he meant, y'know… awesome.

_.............._

_B_

_I don't have a problem. Do you?_

_TC_

_.............._

_B_

_There clearly is a problem. Belle says you're gone.  
What are you playing at, DeLoria? _

_TC_

_.............._

_I know you're still here. You're reading my notes._

_TC_

_.............._

_Butch. Where are you?_

..............

He hadn't replied at all. These notes were precious, weren't they? They're close to blackmail material. Yeah. But what did Butch want out here? In the Vault, during the revolt or whatever, everything was precious, everything was intel and shit. Everything had a double meaning. (He didn't give a fuck about double meanings, okay. He never read the shit Amata gave him cept to know who's making rounds and where.) And notes like this were like intel…probably like codes on where to set the tripwires, where to plant bugs. Y'know. To overthrow the system so they'd get what they want. And everyone, like Butch, wanted to leave the damn Vault. Out in the Wastes, all he wanted was to chill. (Actually, he wanted to start a gang. But when he went around with Knox, the only gangs were fucked up shit like Reilly's rangers or raiders and Talon-ers and whatever crap. He didn't like them. They didn't like him.) He wanted to cut more hair. Cause that got put on hold with the revolt. (And the Butch-man liked being a barber, okay.) He wanted to drink a little. Sleep a bit more. Shoot some things. Break some noses. Spare others. Maybe…fall in love. For real. Shut up. Butch-man had hands of a lover, okay…When he's not breaking things. Anyway, all those things ain't bad. Sure. It wasn't what he had in mind when he left 101, but okay. They're good stuff. He could live like that. Yeah.

Fuck. What was he doing? He pushed the needle, thread and the coat onto the floor. If only Knoxxie could see him now… sewing up holes in Tin Can's coat. If only he could see himself. Y'know what? Fuck this.

Butch went back to sleep.

When he woke up, he found himself with a stinging cheek, screaming bloody murder. His toothpick was in his hands and -

"Shit." There was red on the blade. And Tin Can was leaning against the wall, covering his own cheek, while staring wide-eyed at him. Shit. Fuck. Damn. A trickle of blood stained the Chief's skin. FUCK. After a few seconds, Butch breathed. "I didn't do shit."It wasn't his fault his body was wired to react like that. (Heh. 'Wired'.) So, he wasn't gonna apologise. It wasn't his fault, dammit.

"DeLoria," Chief started. Butch interrupted.

"Look. Chief. Ya can't just jump anyone like that! They'll fucking… lash out at ya –"

"DeLoria, you –"

"I mean like, I ain't used to –"

"Butch." Chief grabbed his arm. Butch almost hit him again cause FUCK - No one touched him, okay. NO ONE. Well, not like this. And especially not…tin can security chiefs. The grip on him bothered him and he couldn't stop staring at the 'human' fingers. Shit. He shrugged off the grip. His own cheek was sore. Chief had a strong jab.

"Guess ya found me, Chief," he said resignedly. "So what? Ya want a present or something?" He faced Tin Can. Tin Can had the default tin can smirky calm face again and seeing it made him want to punch him or something. There was a deep gash on his cheekbone which was still bleeding. It made Butch wipe the blood on the blade with his thumb. Shit. That...It… felt like blood. Smelt like it too.

"Don't put that in your mouth," Tin Can whispered harshly. "It's synthetic."

"What?"

"It's not real blood," Tin Can said. 'Sure. Like anything about ya is real…' was what Butch wanted to say but he didn't. Instead, Butch reached out and traced the cut on Tin Can's cheek.

Tin Can hissed.

Tin Can winced.

Butch felt his whole body stop at the admission of pain. Cause…well.

Tin cans weren't supposed to fucking…_feel _pain.

"It hurts?" Butch asked in disbelief. Tin Can just stared at him like he asked a stupid question. "Are ya gonna shut down or something?" Chief pushed Butch's hand away and straightened his back. Butch wiped the blood on his collar.

"Clear out of here, DeLoria," Chief said in his all-business tone. What? What the fuck, Chief? "This is trespassing." Yeah. Sure. Like Butch-man breaking into Tin Can's room everyday wasn't trespassing. For some reason, Butch obeyed. He was fine about it too and he didn't get it. He was back in the Muddy Rudder within an hour, lugging his not so many belongings back to the footlocker by his cot. (Even Tin Can's coat. Tin Can eyed it but didn't say anything.) Butch licked his thumb where the bloodstain was. He coughed. Fuck. That was blood alright. After Belle had scolded him yet the fuck again, he went to Tin Can's room to leave him a note only to find a new note waiting for him.

_.............._

_B_

_You were right. _

_TC_

..............

What? Butch didn't get it, okay.

_.............._

_TC_

_Sure I am. What d'ya mean?_

_B_

_.............._

_B_

_Maybe I'll tell you someday. For now, you owe me an apology.  
And a 'thank you' for not throwing you overboard._

_TC_

_.............._

_TC_

_I don't owe ya anything.  
Seriously, what are ya talking about?_

_B_

_.............._

_B_

_Apologise first. Then I'll tell._

_TC_

_.............._

_TC_

_Yeah? You're gonna have to wait for it._

_B_

_.............._

_B_

_I didn't expect any less. _

_TC_

..............

What? Chief was confusing. It's like he's being nice and Butch didn't do fucking nice, okay…

Yeah.

Cause Tunnel Snakes and Tin Can Security Chiefs didn't mix like cocktails…

...even if the tin cans bled blood and felt pain just like tunnel snakes did.

Man, this shit was messed up.


	11. Chapter 11

_Note: I gotta say. I'm amazed at my tendency to drag things out. Well, another installment here. In this part, we finally meet Knoxxie, Butch's snake brother, who is actually the lone wanderer. I'm sure you guys have figured that out. (And well, Knoxxie's actually featured in another fic of mine which is kinda twisted and very LW-centered, but...yeah.) Thanks for reading, y'alls. Onwards. _

* * *

Shit. Why was he here? Wait. What the fuck…where – this ain't the Muddy Rudder. And ho –there were kisses on his neck.

"Really, Butchie. If you're going to bring me here, at least stay awake." What? Who the f-

"What's goin' on?" he slurred. Sure. He vaguely knew what was going on. He was about to get womanhandled by… Victoria Watts? It sure sounded like her but it couldn't be cause she was like the Overseer. Y'know. With a stick up her ass. It was probably one of those caravan guards – oh yeah. Crow stopped at Rivet City for a while. So, it must be his caravan guard, yeah, well, fuck. He didn't remember her name now. "Christie?" Shit. That wasn't her name was it? Ah. Fuck it. "Victoria?" She stopped the kisses down his throat and stared at him in blurry disbelief. Hey, she was kinda pretty.

"You're drunk?" Well, fuck. No shit? Didn't she taste the beer on his lips? Oh. She didn't kiss him there. Her hands left his cheek. "Screw you. I don't need this shit. How's that for a happy birthday?" she said as she left him, her footsteps echoing in his head. Yeah. Butch-man's a year older today. The first birthday in the Wastes, eh? Whoop dee doo. He pushed himself off the wall and made his way…somewhere. Whatever. He flopped down on something where he promptly passed out. In the back of his mind, he realised that this was a very vulnerable spot. He could get fucked up pretty bad out in the open like this. Hey, but he was still in Rivet City somewhere right, and he was a fucking Tunnel Snake, so he could watch his own back. Even while drunk. It sucked to be sober, didn't it?

When he woke up, there was something cold on his forehead. Reaching up, he found out that it was a piece of cloth soaked in water; purified, he guessed cause it didn't feel slimy. Shit. Where was he? The light on the ceiling glared at him. Fuck you, light. The bed he was lying on was so comfortable. There was the smell of cigarette smoke and the sound of someone whistling a tune…and he recognised that tune as the Vault anthem.

"Knoxxie?" he rasped. The smiling face came into view. Well, damn. He actually missed his snake brother. Not that he would ever fucking admit aloud.

"One and the same, sleeping beauty," came the reply. "You okay?" Butch swore the kid had some new scars over his lips.

"Why the fuck are ya here?" Butch sat up slowly, cringing when he swallowed. Shit. It tasted like Knoxxie used his mouth as a fucking ashtray.

"It's your birthday. You forgot?" Butch snorted in response. "What? Can't I celebrate it with you?" Hey, Knoxxie, Butch-man passed out on alcohol. Did ya think he hadn't celebrated? Anyway, the Muddy Rudder had a little party of sorts.

"Don't ya have people to save and shit?" Knoxxie sat beside him and shoved a bottle of purified water into his hands. He gulped the thing down.

"Yea. But they can wait." See. Best friend he ever had. Chose the Butch-man over people who needed saving. Knoxxie chuckled. "I got some colas and hunting rifles. Wanna kick some mutie ass?"

Knoxxie had a bodyguard now who was a fucking tall zombie with a girl name. Whatever, man. Even if it's spelled with a 'C', ya still say it as Sharon. It's a girl's name. The bodyguard was kinda creepy cause he was tall and shit. But Knoxxie made him do weird things like everytime Knox put a cigarette on his lips, the bodyguard would light the thing up for him. Knoxxie was extra touchy with him and the zombie stared at him like he was hungry or something. They were like…maybe…like Paul and Freddie…yeah. Well, Knoxxie liked pain. (Maybe Butch made him like that cause well, when they were young he kicked the crap out of Knoxxie everyday.) And this Charon dude could inflict pain and stuff. Well, whatever. As long as his snake brother was happy, Charon earned his place as a tunnel snake. But hell, he ain't gonna give him a jacket. He'd just rip it to pieces with his tallness. The ghoul just watched them as they entered the mutie stronghold across Rivet City. Knoxxie and he knocked the yellow-green fuckers dead. Like old times. Man, this shit was fun. He missed this shit. He pulled the trigger and caught one oversized brute in its eye. See. Tunnel Snake goodness. They made bets on who'd get the only Nuka Quantum in Knoxxie's bag. He won it with 5 headshots in a row. (He knew Knoxxie was saving that for him, anyway.)

"Are ya leaving tomorrow?" Butch asked as he gulped down the blue drink. Damn, this tasted good.

"Have to talk to Pinkerton tomorrow."

"Fuck ya, Knoxxie. You did come here on business." He elbowed his friend in the ribs. Sure. It hurt. But Knoxxie could take it. He took it for years in the Vault.

"I came to see you, though. For real. I swear." Butch knew. Knoxxie elbowed him back. He looked like hell with all the blood on his face. Sometimes, he thought this kid bathed in the stuff. "Just gotta get Pinkerton to check on some cures and shit. See if he's got insights." Truly his father's son, Knoxxie was. Doc James' son.

"Yeah, yeah. I ain't a scientist." He finished the last of the drink and threw the bottle over the bridge into the water. It floated for a while before sinking. He opened up a new cola. "Hey, man." 'Thanks', he wanted to say but didn't. He was sure that Knoxxie knew, though. "You're the best friend I ever had." Knoxxie chinked their bottles together.

When Knoxxie fell asleep in his room, Butch nodded at Charon and left. He didn't feel tired. Just kinda…tense. Which was weird cause that was the most exercise he had in weeks. Rivet City was quiet. Well, fuck. It was 1 in the morning. Butch…slithered through the halls. Then he found himself in front of Tin Can's door. Sure. His feet was used to the route so they automatically (Heh. Automatic like a machine.) brought him here. Hey, this was strange. He hadn't even thought of the Chief today… Not that he thought of Tin Can everyday or a lot. Just that – okay, y'know what. Fuck it. He ain't gonna think about it. He pressed his ear to the door and checked the surroundings. The guard on patrol just disappeared around a corner. Butch picked the lock and sneaked into the room. It was bright. Tin Can wasn't around, though. There was a plate on the desk. On it was a roll. Not a sweetroll cause it was grey like a Lurk cake, but a fucking roll, nonetheless. He pulled out the note from the tin can.

..............

_B_

_The lone wanderer tells me it's your birthday.  
This most likely isn't like the one in 101, but Gary's a great cook. _

_Happy Birthday, Butch. _

_TC_

..............

Well…

This was…

- something...

He broke a crumb off the cake and put it into his mouth. Shit. That was…close enough to a sweetroll that he choked on the crumb. Fuck. He missed sweetrolls. Butch ate the grey sweetroll almost reverently, picking at it crumb by crumb and relishing each swallow. Damn but Tin Can was so nice…he was like… a fucking sweetroll or something.

But seriously, how was this even possible? Of all the people, Tin Can wasn't supposed to care. Cause he wasn't even a 'person'.

Wait.

Shit. The Butch-man was confused.

So, was Tin Can more like a 'human'? Cause well… Butch kinda saw him like a 'person' sometimes. And well…oh yeah. Tin Can smiled, didn't he? Laughed. Ate. Drank. (Pooped.) Bled. Cried… yeah. Butch saw that, didn't he? Tin Can even wrote him notes. Not many people would do that, right? Heck. If he gave Brock a tin can with a stupid note, the bouncer would knock him out. And Tin Can was 'nice' to the Butch-man. Which was fucking weird. Cause not many people were nice to him. Okay so he was lying. People were nicer to him in the Wastes. Not that he cared. (Maybe a little.) Whatever. He finished the roll.

..............

_TC_

_That was the best, man. You are the best._

_Are you really an android?_

_B_

..............

Shit. He had asked this before, hadn't he? Maybe he shouldn't ask Tin Can that. Maybe he should ask the old man in the broken part of the ship. Yeah. He's gonna do that. At least he'd know for sure if he should be… Y'know. Nice to Tin Can back. Shit. What was wrong with him? The Butch-man didn't do fucking nice. Yeah. Whatever.

He scratched out _'Are you really an android?'_ before folding the paper to put into the tin can.

…

Tin Can, are ya really a tin can?


	12. Chapter 12

Butch-man was reading stuff on Pinky's terminal.

He didn't understand a single word.

Look. Butch-man wasn't dumb but he swore every line had 'science' and 'technology' somewhere. Okay. So not every line. But this was bullshit. Who the hell knew what a fucking… 'deltoid' was. Or a 'zytomasomething major'. Whatever. Where were the pictures?

"Hey, old man! Don't ya have pictures or something?" From somewhere above, the old man grunted a reply which Butch couldn't catch. "Where are the fucking… diagrams and shit?"

"Kid, don't desecrate my notes," Pinky warned as he leaned over the railing. Butch snorted.

"I ain't gonna mess up your notes, old man. Ya already made me swear on it." Butch kept his promises, okay. Pinky started descending the steps.

"All of the information is in the terminal. Clearly, you are too dense –"

"Hey, pal. You're asking for it." Butch bristled.

"Damn I need to cut someone today," Knoxxie suddenly exclaimed from above. It shut the both of them up. "Don't you have recordings, Pinkerton, sir?" Pinky's frown faded and he relaxed at being addressed like that. The next time Pinky spoke, he actually sounded gentler. See. This was why Knoxxie was a fucking snake: that silver tongue. The Butch-man just took what he wanted but Knoxxie 'asked' for things… What a jerk.

"Like I said, Neanderthal. It's all in there. Having you even… put your fingers on the terminal –"

"Yeah yeah. Lighten up, old man." Butch found the recordings. Shit. That's a lot of recordings. He switched back to the notes.

"What exactly are your motives?" Pinky asked him. Butch sighed at having to answer this question again.

"Look. I told ya." He stared levelly at Pinky who glared at him through narrowed eyes. "I just wanna know." Yeah. Butch just wanted to know, okay. "I ain't a spy." He's just a vault punk in the Wastes. (Sure. In the Vault, he was a rebel or whatever. Ain't a spy but he could steal anything for the revolt. And bust anyone up. Not that Pinky had to know.)

Shit. He couldn't believe this. The Butch-man was reduced to…reading science-y shit about androids on a fucking terminal. About A3-21. Chief Harkness. Tin Can. Yeah. Security Chief Tin Can Harkness. One and the same.

He scanned the list of notes and everything was a blur of science-y shit. Why was he doing this? Okay. Whatever. He didn't wanna think about this. He's just gonna… read everything and be done.

Hmmm… This log…entry thing was describing Tin Can's surgery.

Oh…

…No fucking way.

Tin Can had a fake heart…They took someone's heart and… shoved it into Tin Can's chest…and like… pasted it or something. Damn. Tin Can had a 'real' 'fake' heart. Man, was this messed up. Oh... Hell. Tin Can didn't have bones either. He had a tin can metal… casing or something to make up his frame. It wasn't bones. Well, not all of them. Shit. Even his fingers were the metal things.

That sucked. Did Chief feel things when he touched them? Could Chief still feel people and stuff? Feel skin? D'ya need bones to feel things? Or was it nerves that let ya feel stuff?

He skipped the words and came to a picture. It was Chief only it wasn't. It was A3-21. Y'know before he was the Chief. It was the android picture. Sure he had seen this picture before but… fuck. He didn't anticipate the heavy feeling in his stomach.

So…somewhere under Chief was _this_. This Tin Can. It was still his Tin Can, wasn't it? One and the same. Butch felt something painful rack through his body at the sight.

Well, fuck. Shit just got too real too fast. He hissed and pushed himself away from the terminal, accidentally sliding some clipboards onto the floor. Pinky and Knoxxie (and the fucking ghoul with the girl name) looked up at him.

Fuck this.

Butch got out his toothpick and went hunting for Lurks.

He could hear the dumbasses scuffling around a couple of doors away. They sensed him. Butch attacked. He slashed and goaded at them. He aimed for their faces while they aimed for his. Between a snake and a Lurk, he guessed a snake was many times more flexible as he dodged their big heads while they crashed into ruined furniture. Suck on that, Lurk. When he returned to Pinky's room, he was bleeding from multiple cuts. Good thing his jacket wasn't cut through. He sat at the terminal again where Tin Can's old face stared at him. The weird heaviness in his stomach came back with full force like he was still high-strung. Killing Lurks wasn't good enough to get rid of the feeling. The clipboards were still on the floor.

"Hey, Tin Can. You're messed up, y'know," he murmured. He picked up one clipboard which had an empty sheet of paper clipped onto it. He pulled out the pencil from his pocket and proceeded to draw out a rough figure of a man, of Tin Can. Then, as he read through the notes again, he mapped out every single real fake organ that Pinky put into Tin Can.

Lucky for him Knoxxie was a 'surgeon'. He pointed out where everything was on his diagram while Pinky was busy checking those little vials of blood Knoxxie had given him. Knoxxie was looking at him funny.

"What? Ya don't like my diagrams?"

"You're not planning on disturbing Harkness, right?" Knoxxie asked. What the hell, man? "You're only this determined when you wanna get at someone."

"The fuck?" Butchie didn't do plans. "Are ya his keeper or something?"

"He likes you, Butchie." Butch stilled. "Asked me to check on you. He thinks you're lonely." Butch snorted. "Yeah. Strange isn't it?"

"Hey, pal. You're asking for it…" Sure. Knoxxie was his snake brother and all. But hell, Butch would damn well hit him if he wanted to. His fists didn't discriminate, okay.

"What are you gonna do to him?" Knoxxie asked.

"I ain't gonna do shit to him," he almost yelled at Knoxxie. "He's just…confusing. Y'know."

"So, you actually wanna know more about him?" Butch stayed silent as he traced the cuts on his face, remembering that he had cut Tin Can once. "You've gotta be kidding me, man." What? His own Knoxxie didn't trust him on this?

"What? Can't I like people or something?" Knoxxie's eyes widened like he couldn't believe the Butch-man. "Is there a problem?" Shit. Now, he sounded like Tin Can. Butch reached into one of his jacket pockets to take out several pieces of folded paper. He handed them to Knoxxie. "I tell ya, man. He's confusing."

"You're writing notes to him?"

"It's a two-way thing, okay." Knoxxie sat down in front of him. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Pinky glance at them. Knoxxie read the notes. Charon moved close to stand beside Knoxxie as his snake brother unconsciously leaned towards the ghoul. Butch stared at the clipboard in his hands.

Wow. His drawing sucked. And this was Tin Can? Really? Man… y'know. He added Tin Can's smirky calm face onto the diagram. Messed up.

Knoxxie placed a hand on his shoulder. (Butch was fine with that touch only cause it was Knoxxie. After all the fights they had, Knoxxie's touch felt normal to him.) There was this very weird but kinda happy grin on Knoxxie's face, like he was about to burst out laughing but… was constipated or something. Knoxxie chuckled.

"So, Butchie. When are you gonna ask him out?"

Butch punched him.


	13. Chapter 13

Butch felt satisfied to see the purple bruise he caused on the side of Knoxxie's nose. Still, Knoxxie wasn't even bothered by it as he slept deeply. His bodyguard slept beside him. Butch didn't know where Pinky was. He was still reading the science-y shit on Pinky's terminal, while playing the recordings. One of those recordings was Tin Can's voice. Before he became Chief. Man, that metallic voice was creepy. He went back to Rivet City in the dark, last night to check on the tin can.

..............

_B_

_You're not so bad, Butch.  
Have a safe trip. _

_TC_

..............

For some reason, that bothered him. Actually, every note, now, bothered him. They were back in his pocket now and if Knoxxie mentioned the fact that he really was being like Susie with a crush on Brotch, Butch was gonna knock him out till next Tuesday.

Really, it was just depressing now to read about the sick shit Pinky put Tin Can through. Yeah. Sure. Tin Can wanted it but damn. The memory thing was just… okay. He had read another log…entry thing. This one was about Tin Can's memory. The entry was about the main memories Tin Can had: about his 'wife' and losing that 'love'. Did Tin Can still think about 'her'? It was kinda sick, wasn't it? Kinda cruel. All this time, Tin Can thought he loved 'her' and it turned out to be false. That it was someone else's memories. It must really, really suck to suddenly find out one day that your whole life was a lie. (Yeah. Like Knoxxie when he found out he wasn't born in a Vault.)

Then Butch found the entry which bothered him the most (even more than the one about the surgery). It simply stated 'Reset Activation Code' and there was this random phrase which didn't make sense to him. What made sense to him was the little line of explanation underneath that.

_To reset android in case of malfunction. _

See. That would erase Tin Can's… everything. He'd be reset. Butch knew for sure what that meant cause once, he snuck into Stanley's footlocker and there was a similar random phrase in a notebook about maintaining robots or some shit like that. Anyway, Butch said that line to Andy and the robot just… died or something. He totally shut down. His arms were curling in like he was recharging but he wasn't even ticking or whirring or whatever sound that robots made when they breathed. And when Stanley got him working again, Andy didn't remember anything. Not even Stanley. He was like a whole new robot. Stanley was so upset he cried. Butch was there…and he felt like a jerk. (Look. Butch was badass but he had a heart, okay.) He felt guilty. And Andy was like Stanley's best friend. Not that Tin Can was Butch's best friend. But damn… he didn't want Tin Can to forget him. Not that he wanted Tin Can to always remember him or anything but …

..............

_TC_

_Don't forget me, Chief. _

_B_

..............

Don't fucking forget Butch-man, Tin Can.


	14. Chapter 14

_Note: Chapter 14 already. There are chapters and mini-chapters written that are pretty extra-ish sounding, so I cut them out. Maybe I'll put them up somewhere else. But for now, we're on chapter 14. Once again, thanks for reading and reviewing. Onwards. _

* * *

..............

_Forget you? What are you talking about?  
Don't do anything stupid. _

_TC_

..............

_You did something stupid, didn't you?_

_TC_

_.............._

These greeted Butch when he broke into Tin Can's room a week later.

So, Knoxxie's gone. But he had Knoxxie's last 3 bottles of cola. And Butch was so…

…y'know. Not that he missed Knoxxie already. Or Tin Can. But he just felt kinda alone, okay. So Butch was a snake, so what? He's human too. Yeah… A human snake. Okay, whatever. He's not gonna think about Pinky and him wiring Butch-man into a human snake… even if that sounded kinda cool and Butch would have scales and shit. Damn. A real Tunnel Snake.

Anyway, he's gonna…What the fuck was he gonna do? Oh yeah. He's gonna wait for Tin Can in his room, wondering what the hell to write back to him. Shit. Three questions. How the hell could he answer this in an hour?

_.............._

_Hey, man. Y'know what. I ain't answering your questions.  
Meet me on the flight deck, will ya? _

_I ain't the only one lonely on this ship. _

_.............._

He left one bottle of cola beside the tin can and headed to the flight deck. Sitting on the edge of the platform, he leaned over to gaze at the water. Fuck you, sky. Seriously, fuck you. Butch-man ain't gonna look up at ya. Even if Knoxxie said that ya are full of pretty things and whatever.

So, Butch was screwed. He had been thinking too damn much, these days. And Tin Can, ya ain't helping. Cause Butch had been reading a whole fucking terminal full of your bullshit. Okay so it's Pinky's bullshit, but they're about ya, Tin Can. And Butch hadn't slept in days. This was worse than the LAMB test that every vault dweller had to do. (Sure. It was GOAT. But Butch-man totally aced it and killed it like it was a lamb. Yeah. With his toothpick. And a pair of scissors. ) He pulled out the folded sheet of paper he shoved into his shirt. Tin Can's drawn tin-can body stared up at him. The paper had more scribbles now. Man… the diagram still creep-ed him out. Cause see… that's… Tin Can. No, shit. He folded it and shoved it back into his shirt.

It was sunset when Tin Can finally found him.

And Tin Can just sat down beside him with the unopened bottle of cola like it was…nothing. Tunnel Snake and Security Chief. Nothing weird about that.

Butch glanced at him from the corner of his eyes to watch the fading sunlight spread over Tin Can's constructed face and reflect in his…eyes. They were real eyes, y'know. Not glass or some other syn-the-tic thing. Pinky wanted them to be blue… like Quantum blue, but Tin Can wanted something bland, something that wouldn't stand out. But they're kinda pretty. Not bland at all. Look. Butch was a barber, so he knew what's pretty, okay. Tin Can turned to him, and there was this small smile on his face which was...yeah. Butch knew what's pretty for sure.

"Welcome back," Tin Can said, as he uncapped the bottle. "What kind of trouble you got into?"

"Little things. Pissed off an old man." Tin Can chuckled. "Stole some colas. Learned a bunch of stuff. Nothing stupid." Butch smirked at his own answers, cause…he fucking answered Tin Can _properly_. Tin Can shook his head as he drank some more cola. In the back of his mind, Butch had this…map diagram thing that kinda knew what was gonna happen to that cola Tin Can's drinking but… Tin Can just looked so… normal that it was… crazy. Butchie couldn't look away. He's mes..mers..sized…uhh…taken by it… "What 'bout ya, Chief? Kicked anyone off the ship?"

"Rivet City's been quiet lately." Tin Can lifted his chin to stare at the night sky. Shit. When had it gotten dark? "Because the petty criminal that's hanging around went on a trip." Butch faced him. Tin Can was smirking.

"What'd he do?"

"Wrecked the Muddy Rudder a few times."

"Yeah? That's badass." Butch returned the smirk. "He broke into the Security Chief's room too, y'know."

"Is that a confession?"

"Maybe." Butch drank from his bottle. "What are ya gonna do about it?" he challenged. Chief didn't answer. "What? What kinda chief lets people get away with that?"

"What kind of criminal gives security chiefs gifts?" Good point, Chief. Look. Butchie had no idea why he did that okay. He really didn't… Though, maybe Butch did know. Butch finished his drink, still keeping his eyes on Chief. Chief stared back, in an amused…confused way.

Thinking about the diagram and Tin Can's holotapes, Butch wanted to… grab Tin Can and feel him…y'know, poke him everywhere to see whether those things he read were true. Tin Can's navel was supposed to be metal too when humans had flesh there. He wanted to… see the stitches … the ones that were on his back, and his chest. Sure. Maybe they weren't that obvious anymore, but… FUCK. This was Tin Can, his Tin Can. He wasn't a dumbass android who was a slave and shit. How was he supposed to believe that that bullshit in Pinky's terminal wasn't bullshit? For a moment, Butch thought he had jumped Tin Can cause something jolted through him. But his ass was still on the floor and he was still openly staring at Tin Can. Only his fingers were flexing as he controlled the urge to… do something.

They listened to the wind again or whatever crap. And it was kinda nice being out here doing shit. Brock came up there for a smoke. When he saw Butch and the Chief chilling, he raised an eyebrow and without a sound, left them.

They walked back to Chief's room. Butch was about to head to the Muddy Rudder (cause he felt all warm and messed up inside) but Chief opened the door and said 'Want to come in?' like it was… nothing. And Butch ain't gonna pass up the chance to go in Tin Can's room. Sure he always broke in, but this time Tin Can _invited_ him. Butch followed Tin Can, watching him stretch, unstrap his armor and yawn even. Tin Can ran his hands through his hair. See. These things weren't in Pinky's terminal. These things were all Tin Can. Butch headed to the desk as soon as he saw bare skin. The tin can was empty now. And Butchie was really messed up now. Shit. He reached for a pile of torn papers on the desk (when did that happen?) and took out his pencil.

He felt Tin Can's eyes on him. Tin Can was watching him with the creepy gaze. Y'know. The one where he's wondering if Butchie's gonna kill someone…yeah, the paranoid one. He scribbled a note and placed it into the tin can before facing Tin Can. Tin Can just stared at him, while pulling on a shirt. Butch stared back. Damn. But Tin Can was like… so fucking constructed. All symmetrical and shit.

Butch smiled…A real fucking smile this time. Cause he felt like it. Cause he felt like he knew Tin Can now. He brushed past Tin Can and paused behind him, noting the way Tin Can tensed. Just a little bit. Didn't say a word. When the silence got too uncomfortable, Butch whispered a 'See ya around, Chief' and left.

..............

_TC_

_I wonder if ya taste like metal. _

_B_

..............


	15. Chapter 15

_Note: Thanks for reading and continuing to read this. I appreciate it so. You guys are awesome. Oh. And a special mention to LunaAnthophilla cause I want to reply to you but I can't, so I'm replying here, I guess. Thanks for reading **a lot** of my stories and reviewing them. This story is in a totally different style than the other ones on my account, but I'm glad you read this too. Once again, everyone, thanks for all the lovely reviews. They push me through this period of shizznits called real life suckery. Okay. Onwards! _

* * *

Fuck.

Another bobby pin fell apart. He broke 2 pins already (Was it bad that every lock he picked…he angled the pins like it was Chief's door? It was like his fingers were programmed (heh, like an android) to pick Chief's door or something). And he still had 7 more doors to go. The lock clicked, signalling that yeah, Butch-man did it again. Take that, lock. Seriously, these locks were nothing. Why did everyone even bother locking their doors? As an added bonus, Butch unlocked some of the footlockers too.

Nah. He wasn't stealing anything. (Messing up a couple of things. But that's it.) He's just picking locks. Cause he had been staying in line for too damn long. And it's about fucking time he stirred up some shit. For other people, at least. Other than Tin Can.

He was down to his last door when he heard footsteps at the other end of the hallway. Just soft ones, so he knew they didn't belong to Chief. (Was it bad that he was kinda hoping it was Chief? Was it bad that he actually could tell what Chief's footsteps sounded like?) But those footsteps belonged to a guard. Dammit. He should have stolen Knoxxie's stealthboys too. Sliding out the pins, he quickly made his way to Chief's door. Locked. But he'd broken into this room so many times it didn't even matter. When he entered, he locked the door behind him, hearing the footsteps pass the door. Man, were Rivet City security guards dumb or what? In the Vault, everyone had their own radar. If the air felt different, it meant that something's up and security guards were aiming for your ass. Rivet City security guards were dumb. Well, Tin Can ain't dumb. He's a fucking android. He could work out what 2x5 was in his sleep or something. (It's fucking 10, alright. And Butch-man ain't dumb. He just…y'know…couldn't do it in his sleep.)

Butch relaxed when the footsteps faded. He glanced at the tin can.

..............

_B_

_Why do you want to taste metal?_

_TC_

_.............._

_TC_

_I don't wanna taste metal.  
I wanna taste you._

_B_

..............

The last note was three days ago. Two days ago, there wasn't a reply. Yesterday, he checked twice and there still wasn't a reply. Today,…well, damn. No notes again. Not even his note was there. Was Tin Can ignoring him or something?

Shit. What the hell was he thinking expecting there to be a note? What? Was he too forward? Hey, he was kinda joking, kinda not joking, kinda turning on the charm. Tin Can shouldn't have to be a jackass about it. Just fucking… write a 'Hey, Butch' or 'Go to hell, Butch' or whatever. So what if it sounded like he wanted to…jump Chief or something? Not that that ain't a good idea. But he hadn't thought that far about fucking security chiefs –

Shit. Okay. Fuck this. He ain't gonna think about it. He's gonna blame this on Knoxxie.

But y'know what? He's gonna steal something in place of the missing note. Yeah. He's gonna take the baton underneath Tin Can's cot and leave. Take that, Tin Can. That'd teach ya to mess with a Tunnel Snake. Even if Butch was the one doing the messing – No. It was Tin Can's fault, okay. He's the one messing with Butch's head. Yeah.

Instead of leaving, he sat on the cot and took out his toothpick.

He pressed the blade against his lips.

Shit. He kinda felt like Knoxxie: licking knives and stuff to hurt himself. His toothpick felt cold on his lips. Damn, but…Tin Can wouldn't feel like this. He'd feel like skin, maybe firmer skin. But not metal. Not like his toothpick. Tin Can would feel warm. Butch knew cause Tin Can's fingers felt warm. And Tin Can's cheek was soft…but firm…y'know, like a dude's skin. He knew cause he traced that cut on Tin Can's cheek. And it felt nice…Like his own skin, maybe.

…

Butch was licking his blade.

Why the fuck was he doing this?

It didn't even taste like... Sure. Cause it's his toothpick, a weapon used to gut dumbasses. But if Butch closed his eyes -

Why was he-

Fuck this.

He was back in the Muddy Rudder within minutes.

"Finally decided to put those lips to good use?" Sister greeted him with a smirk. How convenient. The jackass was drunk and the lewd grin was on his face. Butch glowered, already sparking with frustration all over again. He zipped up his jacket.

"Hope you weren't planning on becoming a model, pal," he growled before breaking Sister's nose.

For some reason, Brock didn't come to his rescue. Not that Butch needed rescue but what bouncer didn't protect the customers? He just let Butch beat the shit out of Sister. Later, bleeding and aching all over, Belle silently handed him a couple of Stimpaks. Yeah. Cause Butch managed to not break anything in the bar this time. Except, Sister busted his lips. Whatever. The fucker was lying unconscious on the pool table and Butch was wheezing cause he wanted to laugh but breathing kinda hurt right now. Brock was staring at him like was stupid or something. Butch ignored him. He coughed.

Shit. There was blood on his jacket. Searching around, he saw Tin Can's baton underneath the pool table. He reached for it and hissed. His back felt like it was ripped apart…like a Deathclaw shredded it…

Hey, Tin Can had those Deathclaw scars on his back too, didn't he?

…

Maybe it wasn't such a great idea to read up on Tin Can. It was all he could think about for days. And now, when he had finally decided to be 'nice', Tin Can just fucking ignored him.

Fuck ya, Tin Can.

Why ya gotta be in Butch's mind all the damn time? Like every single fucking moment, it's Tin Can and his utter bullshit. His tin can-ness and his pretty eyes. And the sweetgreylurkroll thing. And the many, many notes. And fuck ya, man, for ignoring the Butch-man. The Tin Can diagram thing was scratching his chest inside his jacket. He clutched the baton and dragged himself out of the Muddy Rudder, ignoring everything. Wishing he could blow this joint. Wishing for the first time since he's out here that he's back in there. Cause it was simple back in the Vault. Tin cans were real tin cans. Like Andy. Tin cans didn't have pretty eyes or skin or deep, sexy voices or niceness or anything Tin Can had. Like a real fake heart. See. Tin cans were true tin cans. Chief was… not.

Okay. Y'know what? Butch-man's just tired.

Yeah…

Shit. How was he even in Tin Can's room, right now?

When he woke up, his ass was on the floor and his every joint was screaming in protest. Not good. There was a firm grip on his shoulder. Butch twisted away from the touch, gasping at the pain in his body.

Shit. How the fuck – Where was his jacket?

Where the hell -

"Calm down – " Butch struggled against the grip on his shoulder. No one touched him, dammit. "DeLoria, come on, calm down –"

"Let go or I'm gonna –"

"Butch, it's me," a deep voice blew into his ear. "It's... Tin Can."


	16. Chapter 16

_Note: Such a difficult chapter to write... I don't even know how it sounds now. But my betas kinda agree that it 'fit'...and it had to be this way. I'm still not so happy with it. Maybe I'm just not happy with how I have to... hurt little punks from the Vault. _

* * *

Sometimes, in the Vault, the air felt like this. Amata called it the 'calm before the storm'.

Yeah yeah. Poetic and shit but it didn't make sense cause they didn't have storms in the Vault, did they? Nah. This was the point just before shit hit the fucking ventilation fans. It's like… shit's gonna happen but ya just sit here anyway to take it like a man. Y'know.

His lips were swollen. Yeah. Cause Sister was such a fucking jackass, who always aimed for his face. And many parts of his body hurt like hell too. He fell asleep again after Chief helped him onto the cot. (He might be wrong, but it kinda felt like Chief was angry at him for some reason. Well, fuck, there were many reasons why Chief would be angry at him - Okay. Y'know what. He ain't gonna think about this.) When he woke up, Chief was gone and there was a Stimpak and a note in the tin can. The note was nothing special. Just telling Butch to 'Stay.' What? Was he a dog or something? No. But he still obeyed.

Cause well, Chief had his diagram.

Yeah. That sucked. And it sucked that Butch was so careless.

…Chief even called himself Tin Can, didn't he?

Man, was this messed up. Shit.

Butch slithered around the empty room. Fuck. Y'know. Usually, when he's in here, the room felt like it was his, like he owned it. This time it kinda felt like the room didn't like him so much. Like if it had legs, it would kick Butch out. Well, fuck ya, room. Still, Chief said to stay so he did. And Chief even locked the door behind him when he left. That was what? 4 hours ago? Was this an isolation cell or something? Sure. He could just up and leave cause he could still open the door. But he was still waiting for his jacket, okay. Vera had it cause she was fixing it. He ain't gonna walk around the ship half-naked. It's not even about self-steam or whatever crap. Cause Butch was fucking beautiful. Better than that shit Grognak. He just didn't like giving dumbasses a chance to mark him. And he knew that Sister (if he ever got conscious) would try to tear him apart.

And fuck. He just didn't want to scar okay.

Butch sat down on the desk. He pierced the Stimpak in his arm when he heard footsteps stop in front of the door. The door opened. Butch saw Chief pause in his steps when his eyes fell on Butch. Chief closed the door.

"You do know you are in trouble," he said. Yeah. Butch kinda got the idea. He pulled out the Stimpak from his arm, cringing.

"So what? Are ya gonna give me detention?" Butch leaned his head against the wall behind him, just watching Tin Can change his clothes. Tin Can was off duty already?

"You're used to detentions, aren't you?" Well, fuck ya too, Chief. Chief sat down on the cot and stared up at him…y'know he never saw Chief like this. It was like Chief was pissed off at him, but kinda sad and kinda just…not happy to see Butch-man. Kinda like when a Brahmin wanted to kick ya, but then it remembered that it's a Brahmin and decided to… 'moo' or something. Shit. Whatever. Butch frowned.

"Did someone mess with your circuit box?" Butch blurted. Chief froze. Then laughed, but it sounded… like he didn't mean it. Well, Butch didn't really mean it too.

"Funny you say that." Chief ran fingers through his hair. (Butch wanted to play with that hair sometime. And not when Chief was being a jackass.) "Weren't you the one doing that?" What? Messing with circuit boxes? Butch ain't a scientist. He couldn't hot wire an android. He got off the desk and Chief went into alert mode again. "Try anything and you'll find yourself face-down floating in the river."

"Sure. Like hell, you're gonna kick me off the ship." Butch leaned against the edge of the desk. He shifted into alert too. Cause he didn't understand Chief right now.

"Don't tempt me, DeLoria."

"What? Not Butch anymore?" Chief narrowed his eyes. "What the fuck's your problem, man?" Was Chief going rogue? For a moment, the reset activation code flashed in Butch's mind (He memorised it cause, well, in case someone said the first fucking word to Chief, he's gonna bust whoever it was so hard, they'd puke their balls out, okay.) And Butch forced himself to think about something else. Dammit.

"Yesterday, several residents complained that they found their doors unlocked. Even their footlockers." Butch kept quiet. "But nothing was stolen."

"Maybe cause they have shit stuff."

"Did you leave them gifts?" Chief knew it was him, didn't he? He didn't even ask if Butch-man did it. He just… figured it out. Damn. And Chief ain't saying what he wanted to say. It was fucking annoying. Cause it made Butch-man anxious. And Butch usually responded to anxie..uh..anxious-ness by breaking something. "Did you leave notes too?"

"Spit it out, Chief." Get to the point.

"Did you?"

"No, dammit." Butchie only gave 'em to ya, okay. Butch glowered at Chief. Chief glared back. They were tense. The room was tense.

"What do you want from me?"

"That's a dangerous question to ask."

"It is? I'll ask you a different question then. Something simple." Seriously, was Chief becoming rogue? "How much are you getting paid?" Chief's voice was soft and creepy. He was kinda - Wait.

"What?" What the fuck was he talking about? "For a haircut?" Chief took out a folded piece of paper. When he unfolded it, Butch saw what it was. It was the diagram thing that he drew.

"Explain to me –"

"I ain't a scienti –"

"You drew this, didn't you?" Butch licked his lower lip, tasting the dried blood on there. "How much are you getting paid?"

"I ain't getting paid for shit."

"So, this is voluntary? Who are you giving this info to?" Oh for fuck's… Trust Security Chief Tin Cans to be paranoid. "Are you planning to shut me down? Send me back to the Commonwealth?" Butch fingered his busted lip. "DeLoria-"

"What? Can't I draw stuff for fun?" He hated the way Chief said 'DeLoria'.

"'_Tin Can the Android' _diagrams for fun?" Butch cringed at the title. "What else do you do for fun? Charm Security Chiefs so you get away with everything?"

"Hey, man…" He pushed himself off the desk and Chief stood up as well, fists clenched. Well, fuck. Chief was being serious. "I don't need charm to get away with anything. I'm a Tunnel Snake." Tunnel Snakes just needed guns and booze. Chief raised an eyebrow but he was still being creepy serious.

"What about this?" Chief shook the paper and Butch felt this urge to grab it so it wouldn't tear. Don't desecrate my notes, Chief.

"I ain't about to give it to someone else." And for caps too. He wasn't gonna betray ya, Chief. Butch glanced at the diagram where Tin Can's smirky drawn face stared at him. "I swear." Chief relaxed a little, but …he still kinda seemed to want to hit Butch. And his eyes… Butch hated that look in them. It's like Chief was… Chief looked like he was hurt. Betrayed. Fuck. Butch didn't like that look at all.

"If you're not working for anyone, then why do you have this?" Chief asked, all soft and creepy again. "It doesn't make sense." Yeah. No sense at all. And Butch wanted to just…grab Chief…and…do things. Like… punch him… or touch that hair… or shove him... or just…touch…or wipe that 'look' off his face. "DeLo-"

"Don't fucking call me that again." Shit. What the hell was wrong with him? It's his name. Just a name. Just his last name. And Chief was saying it like he was a criminal or something. Well, yeah. Sure, he was. But… come on, man. Chief said 'Butch' a couple of times. Don't go back to saying 'DeLoria'. It's like… ya hate Butch-man or something. "I don't know why I have it."

Yeah. Butch didn't know, okay. He fucking didn't. Cause everytime he looked at ya, Tin Can, he saw ya as human, as a dude that was kinda badass and kinda cool. And he knew Tin Can wanted to be seen as human. He even said that to Knoxxie. So that's all great and stuff. But everytime he looked at the diagram he got reminded that FUCK…Tin Can's an android. He didn't know why he had to have a diagram. He didn't know why he even needed a diagram to remind himself. Or to call Chief 'Tin Can' in his head even. Cause thing was, Butch-man knew, okay. He fucking knew ya were an android, Chief. It was in the back of his mind every single time he wrote a note, every single time he spoke to Chief, every single time he looked at Chief. So why the fuck did he _need_ a diagram to remind himself?

He didn't get it. Shut up. SHUT UP. Science was shit. Technology was shittier.

But he fell asleep with that diagram in his head, didn't he?

Fuck ya, Chief. Fucking hate what ya put Butch through.

Making Butch think.

Making Butch stalk security chiefs.

Making Butch like tin cans that couldn't feel shit for him.

…

Yeah…cause…Tin cans couldn't feel things like this… could they? That's why they're tin cans. Cause they're metal on the outside and hollow on the inside, right? So what if Chief was so nice? So what if Chief gave him stuff? So what if Chief had a 'real' 'fake' heart? He couldn't…shouldn't be able to… even if Butch…

…y'know what...

…

…whatever.

"Then I guess you can have this back," Chief's voice came at him. Butch stared at him as he stared at the diagram. The alertness was mostly gone. And Butch was…yeah.

"Chief…" Butch sighed and Butch never sighed. Chief faced him. "Ya can keep it." Butch was…something… he didn't know. He just felt messed up and… stupid. He felt dumb.

"Why –"

"Look. Just take it, okay." His chest hurt. "It's for ya." He didn't wanna be here anymore. Not now. He must've looked messed up cause Chief suddenly went all concerned and grabbed him.

No one touched him, dammit. No one.

His skin burned where that grip was. Butch watched the curl of human fingers around his bare arm.

"Butch…" Fuck ya, for saying that so easily. "Is there a problem? Don't make me worry –"

"Don't, man. Don't fucking say that. It's not even real." Chief stared at him with the pretty, pretty hazel eyes. Butch really wanted to touch him, now. So he did. He brushed his thumb over Chief's cheek, where he had cut him before. Warm. Soft. So human. And his chest hurt a bit more when he pulled away. He walked to the door.

…what...what the fuck…

He was a Tunnel Snake, dammit.

Tunnel Snakes for life. Tunnel Snakes rule.

Tunnel Snakes just needed guns and booze.

Yeah.

And Butch-man liked Tin Can so much that it fucking... hurt.


	17. Chapter 17

Y'know. Muties were such dumbasses that if ya take away their weapons, they flail around but they wouldn't hit ya back. What the fuck, man? Seriously. Butchie's smaller than ya. The mutie could at least fight back, but he didn't. He just made whiny noises and shit. So, Butch was punching them instead of shooting them. Suck on that, mutiefucker. Sure. His fists hurt a little cause these guys were made of (not metal but) bricks or something. But damn. This was so satisfying. Better than kicking Sister around the Muddy Rudder. Okay. So his fists hurt like hell, but they're kinda numb now so it didn't matter. Yeah. Man, he really wanted to be indoors. He hadn't looked up at the sky. He slept face down on the mattress, head buried in Tin Can's coat so he wouldn't smell the shit smell of mutie sweat. The coat didn't really smell like Chief so much anymore. It kinda smelt like whiskey. Well, whatever. He ain't gonna stick around here for long. He just missed his Tunnel Snake jacket.

He went to Anacostia to get colas from the vending machines. A Protectron tin can scanned him, took the metro ticket from him and said 'Move along please' y'know… like a tin can. Butch followed it around till some raiders decided to dance tango with it. And raiders were really fucked up scum. Sure, they're badass scum in a badass gang but fuck…they're shit humans, okay. Evil. They were dragging this corpse thing behind them (which kinda looked like a gutted woman) when they met the Protectron. Proton shot at them cause they didn't have a ticket and of course the fuckers fought back. So, Butch helped Proton out. Yeah. Tunnel Snakes rule. (Shit. He's such a goody-two-shoes now.) But when the remaining raiders were bleeding on the floor, Proton didn't even give a damn about him. Proton just walked away like nothing…like his cut off arm wasn't twitching on the floor.

See. Tin Can…Chief wouldn't be like that, would he? Chief wouldn't leave his cut off arm twitching on the floor. Chief would well, he'd bleed. He'd feel pain. Fuck. Butch cringed.

He brought Proton's arm with him to Pinky who did some weird shit to it. Pinky still let him use the terminal (after hours of getting Butch to convince him he ain't a fucking spy. Fuck. People in Wastes were just so paranoid). Maybe the old man was kinda lonely. But they didn't talk much. And Pinky didn't sleep much. And Butch realised he knew every single thing on the terminal. Fucked up, ain't it? Yeah. But he'd never been the smartest person in the room before. Okay so he still ain't cause Pinky was in the room. 2nd smartest then, which meant shit cause there's only two of them here. Okay, y'know what. Whatever.

He was asleep on the keyboard of the terminal when he heard the Vault anthem tune in his ear and someone tugging at his hands.

"Knoxxie?"

"Morning, sleeping beauty," his snake brother said but he didn't sound happy at all. Didn't look happy too. Fucker's covered in red again, like always. "What the fuck happened to you?" Shit. What the hell, man? Butchie needed to wake up first, okay. Don't make him have to think so soon, dammit. "You busted your hands."

"The hell you're talking about?"

"Your hands, jackass." Butch turned to see Knoxxie patching up his hands in gauze. Hey…fuck. His hands kinda looked swollen. And they kinda stung too.

"What? Ya don't have Stimpaks?"

"Used them on your hands but they're still swelling. You need to rest a couple of days before piercing Stimpaks again." See. Doctor's son.

"Why are ya here?"

"To see you."

"Sure, asshole. We're at Pinky's house y'know."

"Went to Rivet City first. Searched the whole fucking boat for you. Then Harkness said you're gone." Harkness. Did that name sound nice in his head or what? Knoxxie mumbled a couple of things which sounded like he was nagging and kinda worried until Butch placed a palm on his shoulder. Shit. His hands really did hurt. They couldn't grip right. "What happened?" Knoxxie asked. Hey, man. Butch was fist fighting muties. Ya should try it sometime, Knoxxie. "Did something happen with Harkness? What did you do to -"

"I didn't do shit to him," Butch said, his voice low and even. Knoxxie stopped his work to stare at him. Butch pulled the coat tighter around his body. "He found the diagram thing…y'know…the one ya helped me with. Went all paranoid on me. Said I was messing with his circuit box and shit. Like I was playing around with him. And some other stuff." And Butch ain't playing around at all. "I said he couldn't feel shit." Knoxxie looked at him like he didn't believe it. He pulled out a couple of folded papers from his pocket and handed them to Butch.

"Saw the notes in the tin can in his room. There's a bunch of them." Butch froze. "I figured they're for you." Shit. Chief was still leaving him notes? He counted them. One note for everyday he's gone. He stuffed them into the pocket of the coat while Knoxxie just watched him.

Had it been more than a week already?

Look. Butch wasn't running away. Tunnel Snakes didn't run away. They… slithered. Yeah. Okay. So, he was kinda avoiding Tin Can. Cause he didn't wanna get into the mess, y'know. Sure he liked Tin Can a lot. But he ain't gonna…he didn't think he could be with someone who's not ever gonna feel the same way about him. That's like fucking with knives or something. (Maybe Knoxxie would like that. But not Butch.) Like waiting for the blade to rip apart some important part of your ass or something. Sure. Butch could get cut and he'd still be able to bust up a fucking group of Lurks. He could take it. He's a Tunnel Snake. But dammit. Chief was one of a kind. Yeah. Cause he's an android. And Butch ain't about to cry over the some unre…qu..ired? unrequited wires thing. Shit. What the hell was he talking about?

Okay.

Butch-man liked Tin Can. Butch-man wanted Tin Can to like him back.

Since it ain't gonna happen, Butch-man's gonna… uh… kill muties and drink cola… and okay. He's gonna go bother Pinky. (Cause he felt like shit.) Y'know. Instead of …moping around and stuff.

"You really like Chief Harkness, don't you?" Knoxxie squeezed his shoulder. Butch winced, not because Knoxxie had a strong grip, but because Knoxxie was right. Knoxxie opened a bottle of cola for him.

Butch waited till Pinky, Knoxxie and Knoxxie's bodyguard were discussing shit about blood and stuff before reading the notes.

_.............._

_B_

_Your jacket's with me._

_TC_

..............

_B_

_Stop playing around.  
Where are you?_

_TC_

_.............._

_You're actually gone.  
You're not even reading these notes. _

_TC_

_.............._

_So that's it? You're bored of me already?  
And you think what I feel isn't real.  
You're a sick fuck.  
How do you think I'm feeling now?_

_.............._

_Is this always about me being an android? _

_.............._

_What am I supposed to do with your jacket?_

_.............._

_What am I supposed to do with your 'Tin Can the Android' diagram?_

_.............._

_You spelled 'deltoid' wrong._

_.............._

_You seem to have this weird kink about science.  
Are you aware of that? _

_I'm even starting to see why you are so…strange around me. _

..............

_I don't mind your… strangeness.  
That's why I haven't kicked you off the ship.  
I don't want to, anyway. _

_.............._

_I don't know why I keep leaving you notes even though you're clearly not reading them.  
I'm probably going rogue._

..............

Shit. He wanted to see Chief now. More than his Tunnel Snake jacket.

Butch wanted to see Chief and… do things. Like just… listen to the wind or chill on the bridge or whatever. Just something, y'know. Ya ain't going rogue, Chief. Maybe ya even like Butch back…

…

…yeah.

His chest hurt again. He drank.

"How is the android doing?" Pinky suddenly asked and Butch almost choked on the cola. (Okay so he did choke on the cola. Shut up. Everyone choked on things.)

"Oh…y'know. He's being security chief and stuff. Kicking jackasses off the ship." Except that Chief never did that to him. Cause Chief didn't wanna.

"I didn't think you're friends with him." What?

"What gave you that idea, old man?"

"That's his coat, isn't it? He was wearing it when he arrived." Pinky pointed at the holes Butch had stitched up at the back of the coat. "Deathclaws got him on the way here. But the android didn't bleed then." Well… shit.

"Can androids feel?" Butch blurted. Pinky's gaze darted to him. "Not like pain and stuff cause I know he feels that. But…y'know… other things. Like… hate or disgust or… love… Is everything syn-the-tic?" Pinky stared at him. Y'know the old man was creepy when he's being science-y shit.

"I don't know. That's not my area of concern." Butch bristled.

"What ya mean ya 'don't know', old man? You're a fucking scientist. A doctor. Whatever."

"I wasn't asked to install feelings if that's what you're asking. The android already had those." Yeah? For real? "At least he thinks he does. If that's worth anything." Butch winced when he heard that. Sure it's worth stuff. It's worth more than guns and booze. "If he believes he feels them, then he does. The mind is a powerful thing." This was some deep psycho-logy shit, okay. Get to the point, Pinky.

"So, he can _feel _things?" Pinky looked over at him like he wanted to stick wires into his skin or something. "For real?" He felt like punching Pinky. Or more muties. His fingers twitched.

"Why don't you figure that out? You seem to deal with people more often than I do." (Good point, old man that lived all alone in the broken bow of a ship.) Okay. So maybe Butch could try figure that out. He ain't a scientist but he ain't such a dumbass either. Pinky went back to work.

"Hey, old man."

"What is it, kid?'

"Don't ever use the reset activation code on him, okay." Seriously. Or Butch was gonna hurt ya so bad, old man. So, so bad. Pinky gave him the crazy, science-y look and just shrugged. Damn. But Pinky was strange and shit. He's like –

Wait.

Chief said Butch was… kinky? Butch smirked. He ran the tip of his tongue over the rim of the bottle, tasting cola and the firm glass. Ya don't know shit about that yet, Chief.


	18. Chapter 18

_Note: So. I checked the live preview thing and I realised all my dashes that I used to separate notes went missing. So I changed them to dots cause the horizontal bars were just so ugly. Sorry for the bad formatting. I just didn't realise it. Anyway... umm._

_I'm sure you know that we're heading for the ending. So, thank you all for reading. And reviewing. If you enjoyed it, I'm glad. If you don't...well, my bad. Hey, either way, reviews, constructive criticism and etc are always welcome. _

_I just have one more thing: So, umm. There is no smut. I actually could write it. Just didn't seem to fit that much within the story. (Also note. I don't think I can write them scenes that well. So, it might be attempt-tuous smut.) So... feedback. Onwards. _

* * *

This was going fucking nowhere.

The bobby pin dropped to the floor in pieces. Third one to break. Fuck. FUCK. He couldn't pick the fucking lock. Sure. His hands were less swollen. But he couldn't work like this. His fingers were trembling in pain at the forced exercise. This sucked. He needed to get them well. He needed his hands to do other better shit. Like cut hair. (Shit. He hadn't been working for days.) And to… y'know… touch. Butch leaned against the wall opposite the door. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Shit. He didn't wanna go to the Muddy Rudder, yet. Cause he's gonna see Chief, okay. Yeah. Also cause he didn't wanna see Sister. Okay. No. Fuck that. It's cause he's gonna see Chief.

Should he stay? Well, fuck. Staring at the door ain't gonna do shit. And he didn't wanna go search the ship for Chief. Well, he could. But Chief's on duty now. And he's gonna be on duty for another what? Three more hours. Damn. Butchie's gonna have to stand here for years, now.

Well, shit. He never waited for anyone before.

He didn't know how long he stood there undecided but when he heard familiar sounding footsteps echo in the hallway, he froze. And then he felt like slithering away. Shit. What the hell, man? Just stay put. You're a fucking Tunnel Snake.

When Chief finally came into view, his body just stopped. Well, cause Chief kinda stopped in his steps too. What the fuck? Seriously. This dude's got him losing his badassery. The look he gave Butch… damn. It was like he was pissed off but at the same time kinda happy and kinda wanted to hit Butch and kinda confused. All that and the smirky calm face. It was… nice cause that there's ten-fucking-thousand emotions at once. And why the fuck didn't Butch remember that he had caused these things before? Cause well, fuck, jackass, a couple of days ago, ya didn't wanna believe that Chief could feel and today, ya didn't wanna not believe, okay. And fuck, he's gonna believe it, okay. Butch flexed his fingers then hissed cause he forgot that they hurt.

Chief looked from him to the door to the broken bobby pins on the floor. Never said a thing but he frowned. So Butch ain't gonna say anything. Butch lifted up his bandaged hands. The staring thing happened again then Chief was unlocking the door. Butch followed him in.

There was nothing in the tin can. But seeing it still standing on the table was… good like… um… when Butchie was…well, nothing, okay. Cause he didn't know. He'd never felt like this before. He heard Chief opening the dresser.

The room felt like it was gonna kick him again. But not like the calm before the storm shit thing either. Just kinda tense.

Butch reached for a torn piece of paper and a pencil to write a note and-

"Shit…" he hissed. The pencil bounced on the desk. He couldn't grip the fucking pencil properly. Why the hell did he even try? Shit. SHIT. How the hell was he gonna…

Chief was doing the surveillance stare on him. Butch could feel it. He turned and was right. See. He fucking knew this guy. Sure. He knew Wally's dad and the asshole Overseer. Yeah yeah, he knew them but fuck…he _knew_ Chief okay. Chief had his Tunnel Snake jacket in his hands as he walked to Butch.

"What did you do?" Chief asked like he was gonna kill him but didn't wanna.

"Can't fucking write," Butch answered. Chief raised an eyebrow.

"I meant what did you do to your hands?" Butch fumbled the leather strap on the coat he's wearing. Oh, fuck. His hands were trembling again. Y'know. Actually Chief kinda sounded like he cared. Sure. At the moment, he was radiating a lot of things but maybe, y'know… he cared.

"Gutted a couple of muties." Chief shook his head at his answer, but he still ain't looking at Butch. What? Was Butch gross-looking? Well, that ain't fair, Chief. Cause Butchie thinks you're sexy as hell. "Ya gonna…hit me or something?" He's beside Butch now. Chief pulled open a drawer and took out a Stimpak. Butch tried to pick it up but couldn't cause his hands cramped up on him. Chief tugged at the bandages on his hand. Chief glanced at him before piercing the Stimpak into the now exposed skin. Butch flexed his fingers. It felt a bit better. But only a little bit. And only cause Chief was touching his hand. Shit. "Why are ya so nice to me?" Butch asked, cause he had always wanted to know, cause he didn't get it.

"Because you're nice to me." What the hell? Butch didn't do fucking nice. "You made me a gift. Asked me if I'm okay even when you know what I am." Yeah. But…

"I stole your coat."

"And sewed up holes in them." Shit. Good point.

"I broke into your room."

"To leave me notes." Damn. That's true too. Butch might be mistaken but Chief looked a little amused.

"I'm a…" What the fuck was he? "A petty criminal." Yeah.

"Yes, you are. You stole my notes."

"That was Knoxxie, man." Yeah. Cause…hands, dammit. Butch-man couldn't do shit for a while. And fuck, Butch couldn't write anything. Cause he wanted to tell Chief stuff but he couldn't do shit. Yeah. And Chief's just …watching him, y'know. It's nice and all but it made Butch feel like he was a jackass. Which he kinda was. A badass jackass. But still a jackass. Okay. He ain't gonna think about this.

"But you read them, didn't you?" Chief was doing the creepy, deep voice. Butch just stared back. Chief slid the jacket to him and pushed off the desk, heading for the door.

"Chief…" Butch almost grabbed him, then saw his bandaged hand and stopped. That made Chief stop too. Chief had this look on his face that kinda made Butch's chest hurt again. It hurt a bit more than the way his hands hurt. Deeper and stuff. Well, fuck. He could do this. Come on, man. Tunnel Snake. Knoxxie couldn't be the only one with the silver tongue. "I can't write shit." Okay so, maybe, Knoxxie was the only one with the silver tongue.

"Do you even have something to write? Apart from asking about my poop or my blood? You know all that." Well, Chief just sounded tired now. He ran his fingers through his hair.

"Sure."

"Then just say it, Butch. What do you want –"

"It ain't about ya being an android, y'know," he blurted. "And I ain't bored of ya." Look. Butch was shit with words, okay. Dammit. This was so fucking difficult. Sure. He knew what to say, but he just… ain't the kind of guy to say these kinda things out loud, okay. He could write notes but saying it out… Damn. Y'know Brotch would be so proud that Butch even thought he was better at writing than saying stuff. And Chief was just… waiting for him to speak. He's so fucking patient. Made Butch wanna hit him. "Well, fuck, Chief. Y'know how hard this is? It's like being interrogated by the Overseer and shit but…I ain't even trying to hide nothing." Chief raised an eyebrow and pretty-eyed his coat. There was a little quirk tugging the corner of Chief's lips that was just so… It made his chest feel full of something. It made Butch wanna do things… Like fucking do something that… How was he gonna… When he couldn't… Damn but...

Okay. Y'know what. It couldn't be helped.

Butch leaned over and brushed his lips over Chief's cheek.

Skin.

Warm. Soft. Smelled like Chief, like gunpowder and… things that could make Butch drunk. Chief stilled.

"Sorry, Chief…" Shit. What the fuck? Why was he saying... Well, cause he was sorry, okay. For making ya worry, Chief. For making ya think it's all about the android. For breaking into your room. For spelling 'deltoid' wrong. For stealing your coat. For…touching ya and cutting ya that one time cause Butchie couldn't fucking help it. For saying that ya can't feel shit. Cause it didn't matter to Butch anymore, okay. Butch's still gonna want ya even if ya turned rogue and kicked his ass off the ship for real. He's just gonna sneak back into the ship and jump ya all over again. "I ain't messing with your circuit box."

Chief faced him. The very, very faint blush was there. But Butchie knew that his own cheeks were pretty red. Shut up. He'd never liked a dude like this before okay. Dude?…yeah. Chief ain't a tin can. Chief just gazed at him with the pretty, pretty eyes. It was the look he had when they were chilling and stuff. The one that made Butch warm all over.

"So…is that how snakes do their tasting?" Chief chuckled. "It's harmless compared to what you wrote on the diagram."

…

Well, fuck.

"You're asking for it, pal." Yeah. Chief's totally asking for it. And he had that smirky calm face again, only ten times more… evil. But in a very good evil way that made Butch wanna…do good evil things… and Butch ain't even evil.

So, Butch kissed Chief. For fucking real. Ain't never kissed a dude before. Sure. He'd been with a couple of people but he just ain't someone who kissed. He just didn't okay. But Chief…made him do a couple of things he had never done before. Yeah. Like make him wanna fuck an android. He ran his tongue over those lips and tasted for real, like he said he would. Like a true Tunnel Snake. And Chief didn't taste like metal at all. He didn't feel cold and steely like Butch's toothpick. Or glass. Or bricks. Chief was firm but soft and just so…warm that it made Butch stop breathing for a while. His chest hurt again but it's a good kinda hurt like it's gonna… melt him or something. Fuck. Maybe Chief had some loose wires cause Butch's lips fucking tingled, okay. Then Chief had to fucking _kill_ him by kissing him back… And it floored him, okay. Cept that he was still standing, their lips sliding so smooth and... wet and he's pressed on Chief cause he couldn't fucking touch and damn, Chief tasted like the way he smelled… like something smoky and something Butch could get drunk on and like -

"Ffffffuck…" he hissed (like a true Tunnel Snake). Cause Chief tasted like sweetrolls. Chief smirked at him.

"Saw you cross the bridge. So I ordered sweetrolls from Gary," Chief said. Butch swallowed. The sneaky bastard. Now, everytime Butch ate a sweetgraylurkrollthing, he's gonna be thinking of ya and that pretty mouth. Damn but it wasn't often anyone got a step ahead of him. Chief just earned his right to ride with the Tunnel Snakes (or y'know…slither). Cause he's badass. And Chief could wear his jacket anytime. (Chief's gonna look badass with his jacket on. Or off. Whatever.)

Chief stepped back and turned to the desk. He was writing. It looked like a long note. And Butch was just standing there like a dumbass, his fingers twitching cause he wanted to fucking… do something. He's never gonna fist fight muties again. Or anything that's made of bricks. Or anything at all if Chief was gonna let him touch. Chief folded the note and put it into the tin can before he headed to the door again.

"Lie low for a while. Sister's up and about," he said. Then he left. Y'know what. It sounded like Chief wanted him in the room. So, fuck. He's gonna stay. Butch unfolded the note in the tin can.

_.............._

_Butch_

_Remember I said that 'you were right'?  
Want to know what you were right about?_

_You gave me something to miss. _

_Harkness_

_.............._


	19. Chapter 19

_Note: So this is it. We've come to the end. Thanks for reading. Thanks for reviewing. Hope you enjoyed it. I had fun writing it. I swear sometimes, I even switch to Butch-man speak in normal conversations. Any criticism, reviews, anything...is greatly appreciated _

_That said. Take care y'alls. And... Onwards. _

* * *

"Damn, Butchie. You're gentle."

"Shut up Knoxxie." Yeah. Take that, fucker. "Now, hold still." Knoxxie whistled the vault anthem tune as he braved Butch-man's barbering skills.

"You're still better than Tin Can." Yeah. Y'know it, man. Tin Can was what Knoxxie called Wadsworth, his tin can butler who's a wannabe barber. Knoxxie's bodyguard stared at them from the doorway.

"Hey," Chief Harkness greeted as he entered the room. Butch's body stilled while Knoxxie waved. It's crazy cause he heard Harkness' footsteps heading here but he still reacted anyway.

"What is it, Chief?" Butch replied in greeting. He glanced at Harkness (Fuck. Did that name sound good in his head or what? Even better spoken too.)

"Is there trouble?"

"Sure. But I ain't the one making it," Yeah. Take that, man. Butch smirked at him as he sat down on the empty chair beside him. Harkness glanced at him, smiled then just breathed or something. Damn but… Butch couldn't fucking concentrate okay. At least it's not Trinnie's godawful centaur hair he was working on. That's yesterday and in return, Brock had been bouncing off Sister for him. Look. Butch could kick Sister's ass around Rivet City but he's trying not to mess up his hands. These were hands of a lover, okay. Harkness continued to stare at him as he worked on Knoxxie's hair. Y'know. It's like the surveillance gaze but better and more heated. Harkness had been like this since that little talk they had and that was three days ago. Butch's hands were healed now, and when Knoxxie left (after paying him with Quantums), Butch ran his fingers through Harkness' hair. He wanted to work on it.

"So, 'TC' meant Tin Can," Harkness suddenly said. Butch stopped touching to look at him. "All this time, I thought it meant 'The Chief'." He chuckled. "Do you still call me Tin Can in your mind? Cause it's fine with me."

"Nah, babe. Ya ain't hollow on the inside." Cause ya like Butchie, don't ya? Butch smiled against his Tin Can's neck.

Fuck. He's like a tamed Tunnel Snake or something.

And y'know what. He's gonna blame that on Harkness.

___.............._  
end


End file.
